Jake
by SMR723
Summary: COMPLETED. Jack O'Neill receives a latenight call from his teenaged clone. Is there really trouble at the high school or is the teen just bored and looking for attention? The answer surprises them all.
1. Default Chapter

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This story is set in season 8 approximately one year after the events of the 7th season episode "Fragile Balance" and has spoilers for events through the mid-season break of season 8.

Many thanks to my wonderful betas, Cathy, Matt and Sashi for their feedback, patience and continued friendship throughout the writing process, even when they were ready to strangle me for sending another rewrite before they'd had a chance to read the one that came before. Special thanks to Cathy who thought it would be fun to actually read the story out loud as we drove over two hours to visit a friend in New York. Hearing it out loud really showed me where the characters' voices were mine instead of their own and I'd recommend it as a technique to anyone still struggling with the problem of getting dialog to sound 'true.' Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated and gratefully accepted.

* * *

**STARGATE: SG-1**  
**Jake**

_**Chapter 1**_

Brig. General Jack O'Neill held his assault rifle tightly in both hands and sighted on the goa'uld death glider approaching him. The roar as it approached became a high pitched ring as it flew over his head and he emptied the rifle's clip into its underbelly. The glider crashed into the remote hills and yet the ringing sound remained. Perplexed O'Neill looked around and watched, dumbfounded, as the world around him rippled and began to melt away. His eyes popped open but it took him another moment to realize he was safe at home and the death glider had just been part of a dream.

The phone by his bedside rang shrilly again and O'Neill fumbled for it, finally catching hold of the receiver and taking it off the hook, grateful for the immediate silence from the incessant ringing that had begun to burrow like a jackhammer into his brain. He managed to fumble the receiver to his ear right side up and answered sleepily, "What?!"

"Jack? It's me, I need your help."

"Me, who?" O'Neill mumbled, his eyes already half closed again.

"It's me -- the other you. Jake."

"Jake?"

"Yeah, I figured it's too weird if we're both Jack, so I'm going by Jake."

"Okay, sure, whatever. Nice talking to you, Jake," O'Neill mumbled, his eyes now fully closed.

"Wait! Don't hang up! I know we agreed it would be too awkward to keep in touch, but you said I could call if I needed anything. And, well, I have this problem."

O'Neill's eyes reluctantly opened again at the word 'problem.' "It better be a doozy if you're calling me at . . . damn, **3:20** in the morning!"

"It is. Something weird is going on at my school."

"It's high school. It's supposed to be weird."

"I know that. I'm not talking normal high school weird, I can deal with that. I'm talking Buffy, the Vampire Slayer, high school weird."

"Buffy goes to your high school?" O'Neill asked groggily.

"Jack, man, get a grip will you. You're career military. You used to be able to go from dead asleep to wide awake at the sound of a twig breaking."

"Yeah, well, that was a couple of goa'uld mother ships ago. Now when I get in at 2 a.m. after a mission where I was awake almost three straight days, I need more than an hour and a half to sleep before the next crisis hits."

"Sorry for the inconvenience," Jake said in a withering tone. "But I've been up for about that long myself and I feel fine."

"Yeah, well, I've got an idea, kid. You're young; you handle the staying awake all night for both of us and I'll take care of the sleeping."

"Jack!! That's not funny! Are you going to help me or not?"

"All right, all right already," O'Neill said with a groan. "Does it have to be right now or can I get a few hours shuteye and meet you somewhere tomorrow."

"There's a Starbucks a couple of blocks from school on Maple Street. Meet me there at 7 a.m. Don't be late because I've got to be in homeroom by 8."

"Okay. 7 a.m. Starbucks on Maple. Got it. G'night." O'Neill fumbled the phone back onto its hook and immediately rolled over to go back to sleep. Concern about what could be happening that was bad enough for the kid to call him at all, let alone at 3:30 in the morning, and the niggling worry that the teen might be in danger kept his eyes from staying closed for long. Finally, he reached over to set the alarm for 6 a.m. to make sure he didn't oversleep, then, after wavering for a moment, he picked up the phone and punched in a number.

"What?" came a groggy voice over the line.

"Daniel, it's me."

Jackson groaned in his ear. "Jack? Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"Yeah, I know what time it is. I wouldn't have called if it weren't important. The kid has a problem and wants me to meet him in the morning. I need you to come along."

"What kid?" Daniel asked groggily, "you don't have any kids."

"What do you mean what kid? What other kid would I be talking about. The other me."

"Oh, him." Daniel said, yawning noisily.

"Yeah, him. Will you go with me?"

"Why me?" Daniel whined sleepily. "What's it about?"

"I don't know what it's about. All he would say over the phone is that something weird is going on at his school, and I figure, since you've spent more time in school than anyone else I've ever known, including Carter, you're the obvious person to help me out here."

"I know there's something fundamentally wrong with that argument, but I'm too tired to figure out what it is right now," Daniel grumped.

"Good. Then I'll pick you up at 6:30 a.m. sharp." He hung up before Daniel could argue and made a mental note to call again as soon as he got up in case Jackson was so tired he went right back to sleep and forgot about the phone call.

* * *

Jake sighed heavily as he hung up the payphone outside the all-night convenience store on Maple, wishing again that there had been some way to avoid making that call. But the situation was getting too big for him to handle alone, and he knew he couldn't risk the lives of other people to assuage his own pride.

Pretending to look for something in his backpack, Jake pulled out a small mirror and used it to check the street. He swore quietly under his breath when he saw a familiar-looking car sitting halfway down the block, with only its parking lights on. Dropping the mirror into the backpack, he made a show of glancing nervously around the way any normal person would who was out at 3:30 in the morning, before pulling some money out of his jeans pocket and heading into the convenience store.

He'd become friendly with the night clerk, Manny, over the last year, so the man simply pointed toward the back room without asking questions when Jake asked if he could use the back door. Slipping into the dark alley behind the store, he melted into the darkness.

* * *

O'Neill and a very sleepy Jackson seated themselves at a corner table of the Starbucks at 6:58 a.m., O'Neill making sure to take the chair that afforded him the best view of the restaurant proper and the exterior windows while putting them as far from the counter and the other patrons as they could get.

Daniel clutched an extra large cup of coffee in each of his hands and seemed unsure which one to drink from first. "Why am I awake at this ungodly hour again," he asked, yawning loudly before taking a sip from the cup in his right hand.

"Just drink your coffee, Daniel," O'Neill said, impatiently drumming his fingers on the tabletop as he scanned the room and looked out the windows, searching for some sign of Jake.

Daniel did as he'd been told and downed the first cup in less than two minutes. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes as he felt the caffeine making its way through his system, forcing sparks of energy to reignite in muscles and tissue that complained bitterly that they'd much rather go back to sleep.

"You're on time. That's pretty impressive considering how bad you sounded last night," came a familiar voice, as Daniel sensed someone stop beside the table, then plop down in the empty seat beside him. "And you got us coffee, too. Cool."

Daniel's eyes sprang open and he grabbed the untouched cup of coffee before the teenager could snag it away from him. "Mine. Get your own," he mumbled groggily, taking a long drink from the cup.

Jake rolled his eyes, "You guys are a piece of work. I've been up most of the night and you can't even spring for a stinkin' cup of coffee?!"

Daniel looked at him blearily over the rim of his coffee cup. "Since we're the ones helping you," he took a long look at his watch "at 7:00 in the morning you ought to be the one springing for the coffee."

"Be quiet, Daniel," O'Neill barked. "Now tell me what's going on, kid."

"My name is not 'kid'," Jake said between clenched teeth. "It's Jake. J A K E, Jake. It's not that difficult."

O'Neill simply glared at him.

"Fine," Jake responded sulkily. "There are some strange people hanging around school. I've spotted them for about two weeks, at first always wearing different clothes or some kind of uniform, but I knew the faces were the same. Then within a few days of each other they all turned up in jobs around the school.

"At first I thought maybe they were just watching me because at least one of them always seemed to be wherever I was. Then I started keeping tabs on them, and I realized I wasn't the only one they had their eyes on. I did some snooping and found out all the kids they're watching have some connection to personnel at Cheyenne Mountain."

"And just exactly how did you find that out?" O'Neill asked.

Jake shrugged and gave him a cocky grin, "I have my ways."

"There hasn't been any additional protection ordered for base personnel family members, as far as I know," O'Neill said thoughtfully, "and I think I would have been told if there had been. I can look into it to see if they're ours."

"You think I couldn't tell if they were ours?" Jake said, clearly insulted. "Man, I spotted your plants the first day of school -the custodial guy with the short black hair and the bleach blonde in the cafeteria. They might as well have had 'Property of USAF' tattooed on their foreheads. No, they're definitely not ours. I don't think they're NID either, but I can't be certain about that.

"And why would you be advised about protection for personnel family members anyway? It's not like you have any around here."

"Jack got a little promotion since your last visit to the base," Daniel said, downing the last of his coffee. "I need another one. You guys want anything?"

O'Neill shook his head no, but Jake grinned and said, "black, extra large, none of that wussy cream and sugar crap."

Daniel glanced at O'Neill who simply shrugged his shoulders, then said, "On second thought, same for me, thanks."

As Daniel went to get the coffee, Jake crossed his arms and looked at his older self. "So they finally made you a big cheese, huh. Don't tell me you're stuck behind a desk. That's gotta suck. Sorta like when they made Captain Kirk an Admiral."

O'Neill gave a weak grin, "Actually Hammond got promoted too, so they've got me running the SGC now."

"No way!" Jake said. "Are they nuts! No, are **you **nuts? Why would you want **that** job? Pushing papers around all day and being stuck behind a desk back at the SGC while everyone else gets to go through the gate and have all the fun."

"It has its moments," O'Neill responded diffidently, fiddling absently with a coffee stirrer that had been left on the table.

"You've been golfing through the stargate again, haven't you?" Jake said with an amused grin. "That is SO cool."

O'Neill gave a strained smile in return. "I wish it were that simple, kid."

Jake's grin faded at the look of weariness and concern etched in O'Neill's face and, deciding to shift back to the original subject, he said thoughtfully, "That puts an interesting spin on things."

"In what way," O'Neill asked, although he already had his own ideas on the subject.

"Somebody in high places could be testing the new leader of the SGC -- to see how he handles a crisis. You know, see what you would do if somebody actually snatched the kids of base personnel."

"It doesn't make any sense. There are strict protocols for that kind of situation. And none of the kids are mine. What good would it do? Why would they think I'd break protocol?"

"I'm listed as an emancipated minor because my parents supposedly died in a car accident, but school records have you down as my closest relative for purposes of an emergency contact --good old second cousin, Jack -- my father was your father's cousin or some such crap. Anyway, they may be under the crazy impression that it would actually matter to you if something happened to me."

"Maybe," O'Neill said noncommitally, as Daniel returned with the coffee.

"Thanks, man," Jake said, grabbing his cup and taking a quick gulp.

"Hey, take it easy! That's . . . really hot," Daniel said, as Jake's face paled and he started to sputter.

"Thanks for the warning," Jake forced out in a strained voice, shooting Daniel one of Jack O'Neill's most withering glares.

"He really is just like you," Daniel said to Jack. "It's creepy."

Jack and Jake both glared at him with the same annoyed expression on their faces.

"Very creepy," Daniel repeated, sitting back down and looking at his coffee instead of at the two O'Neills staring him down.

"So, how many different people have you spotted?" Jack asked as he sat back in his chair and studied Jake, continuing to twirl the coffee stirrer between his fingers while he waited for his own coffee to cool.

He noted that the teenager had grown another two inches and put on at least 30 pounds of mostly muscle since the last time O'Neill had seen him. The boy's face was now clear of acne and there was a self-assurance about him that O'Neill could tell was more self-confidence than the bluster and bravado the teen had used to get through the strange circumstances of their initial meeting a year earlier when the renegade Asgard scientist Loki had created the clone to replace him at the SGC while Loki conducted some genetic testing on him. Had it not been for the genetic marker placed in his blood by Thor that had caused the clone not to grow to full maturity, no one at the SGC would have ever noticed the switch.

"One woman, three, maybe four, guys. I can't get a lock on the fourth guy. He just showed up in the last couple of days. His cover is a technician doing upgrades on the school computers, but I don't buy it. He hasn't been overtly watching anyone like the others are, and I haven't seen him interact with any of them, but he still doesn't feel right to me."

O'Neill sat and stared at the young man, wishing it could be as easy as telling him he had an overactive imagination and to get back to concentrating on his schoolwork. But he had better reason than anyone to know the kid had good instincts – and that he never would have called O'Neill in the first place if he hadn't been sure there was something wrong.

"How do you think we should handle it," O'Neill asked.

Jake and Daniel both stared at him in amazement.

"Jack, you're not really taking this seriously, are you?" Daniel asked, clearly incredulous. "Mysterious people hanging around the high school. Come on!"

Jake's look of amazement shifted to one of irritation and then anger. "Just what is that supposed to mean? And who invited you into this discussion anyway? I don't remember asking for your opinion."

Daniel sat up straighter in his seat and shot his own annoyed look back at the teenager. "Jack asked me to come today because he lacks some perspective where you're concerned, and I'm glad he did. I'm sure it has to have been very difficult for you to adjust to being back in high school while having the memories of having lived a very different, exciting and adventurous life as a full grown adult. It's only natural you'd miss that life and want some of that excitement back."

Jake threw up his hands and rolled his eyes as he slumped back in his chair. "Yeah, having you guys around brings such joy to my life. I can't imagine why I didn't make up some excuse to call you sooner."

"Give me full descriptions of all five of them, including what they were wearing and any vehicles they were driving, and a full report on what they were doing every time you saw them," Jack said, ignoring the interruption.

Daniel shook his head in amazement, while Jake shot him a triumphant sneer and reached into his backpack. "I haven't forgotten how to write a report," he said haughtily and slapped a folder down on the table in front of Jack.

O'Neill picked it up and leafed through the pages. His eyebrow raised. "You even have pictures. Very impressive. Are you sure they didn't spot you taking them?"

"Please," Jake said, slumping back in the chair with a self satisfied smirk on his face. "Do I look like some snotty nosed grunt to you?"

"Well, actually . . .," Daniel started to say before being cut off by both O'Neills in unison saying, "be quiet, Daniel."

"Well then, since it's clear I'm of absolutely no use here, why don't I get us some more coffee," Daniel said with forced pleasantness.

"Great. Same as before," Jake said.

O'Neill frowned slightly and said, "I'm good, thanks," as he continued to stare speculatively at his younger self.

Jake stared back at him defiantly. The silence dragged uncomfortably for another minute before Jake finally said, "I really don't appreciate the good cop/bad cop act."

"It's not an act," O'Neill responded. "Although I never said that to him, Daniel's right about why I brought him here. Since I want to believe you can take care of yourself and will be okay on your own so I don't have to deal with the weirdness of our particular situation, I need an objective third party to make sure I'm not taking it too far and giving you too much leeway."

"What a bunch of horseshit," Jake said crossing his arms across his chest again. "You were just creeped out by the thought of having to meet me alone, so you brought some comic relief to ease the tension."

O'Neill shrugged dismissively and rolled his own eyes, "believe what you want to believe, kid. What's your plan?"

"You use your connections to run the bad guys in the photos and figure out who they are and, more importantly, who they belong to. I'll keep an eye on things at school and report back to you if it looks like they're getting ready to move on whatever it is they're planning to do. With me on the inside, you don't have to worry about sending in people that are going to be made and tip our hand so they know we're on to them."

Jack sat thoughtfully for a minute, the hand fiddling with the coffee stirrer continuing to move restlessly while the rest of him remained still as a statue, lost in concentration. "It's not a bad plan, but there's a big hole in it. I think we both know as soon as I scan the first photo in and go to run the check, a big red flag is going to go up somewhere. I want you to have backup when that happens. I'll talk to our two people who are already there to see if they can handle it or if I need to send more people in."

Jake stared at him. "Christ, Jack, are you telling me you don't even know they're gone? When they first disappeared about two weeks ago, I thought they were being rotated out or maybe something big was going on and they'd been temporarily reassigned. But then the freaky four showed up – they got my spidey sense tingling right away because I knew they weren't ours and they just felt like trouble – so when nobody came to take either of their places by last week, I knew I'd have to do some serious investigating on my own."

Jack had stopped moving, frozen by the word 'gone.' Two of his people had been missing for two weeks and he hadn't even known it? How could that possibly have happened? He forced himself to push through the web of anxiety the news left in his brain to focus on the situation at hand. "Then it's even more important for there to be other people inside before anyone else disappears."

"And how do you expect to be able to pull that off without arousing their suspicion?" Jake asked, the arms still crossed defiantly across his chest almost quivering with his efforts to restrain his impatience.

Jack looked at his watch. "You said you need to be in homeroom by 8:00? It's 7:40 now. I think kindly old cousin Jack is going to give you a ride to school and stop in the principal's office to see about arranging for the Air Force to host a workshop on deep space telemetry. I'm sure Lt. Col. Carter will be thrilled to give a talk on that very exciting topic to a bunch of teenagers who will most likely be bored out of their minds and won't mind showing it."

"Lt. Colonel, huh. Sounds like I missed something really big," Jake said, eying O'Neill curiously. When Jack didn't respond, Jake frowned thoughtfully and added, "Just tell her to make sure she wears a little make-up and hikes the uniform skirt a little above regulation. That'll keep the guys' attention anyway."

O'Neill shot the boy one of his most withering gazes, determined not to let him know the same thought had crossed his own mind right before Jake said it. "Do they still have those special programs for juniors and seniors on career choices, where they get people to come in and talk about their jobs?"

"There's a big career day coming up in a couple of weeks, but I think they have some after school stuff too."

"Okay. Then cousin Jack, who just recently got a pretty cool promotion in the Air Force, so is a really good person to give a rah rah talk. . . ," ignoring Jake's snort of disgust, he continued, "will also arrange a 'careers in the Air Force' session for some time in the next week or so. I think those will be good enough reasons for cousin Jack and Carter to be hanging around for the next couple of days."

He grew thoughtful again. "Daniel could probably do a career thing on archaeology," he added dubiously.

Jake made a buzzer sound and said, "Sorry, wrong answer. You're forgetting Daniel's pretty much been drummed out of the archaeology club because of his weird ideas about space aliens landing on the pyramids. Unless we're planning to go public that he's right, he shouldn't be showing up as himself. It'll also make our guys suspicious if they already know he's connected to SG-1. You're better off getting him fake teaching credentials under another name and putting him under as a sub. Just tell him to act his normal dorky self and keep his glasses on and he should be fine."

Just then Daniel walked up to the table with two cups of coffee. "What was that about dorks and glasses," he asked suspiciously.

"Never mind. You're going undercover as a high school substitute teacher," Jack said picking up his half full coffee cup and taking a sip. "You have any problem with that?"

"You mean other than the fact that, although I did the normal TA routine to make some extra money in college, I was primarily a researcher so I know very little about teaching?" Daniel asked, retaking his seat as he sipped his coffee. "No, no problem here."

Ignoring Daniel, Jake took his coffee and continued as if he hadn't been interrupted, "And if you want Teal'c in on this one, he'll have to do another Murray. It shouldn't be too hard to slide him in the kitchen or the custodial area -- or else get him on the construction crew for the new wing that's being built. Just figure out how to keep the bald head and the brand covered without it looking like he's hiding something and he should be able to blend without too much trouble."

"Actually, Teal'c has hair now," O'Neill said.

"No way!" Jake said. "I have so got to see that before this is over."

They sat quietly drinking their coffee for a few minutes before O'Neill said, "Okay, we'd better get going. Cousin Jack won't make a good impression on the principal if he brings you to school late. Daniel, you need to either stay here for an hour or two or find your own way home. You can't be seen with me at the high school."

"Well, gee thanks, Jack. I'm so glad I dragged myself out of bed to help you out this morning. It's been such a treat."

"Just look at it this way, Daniel. You get to go home and go back to bed while I get to go back to high school. Seems like you get the better end of that deal."

"I've just had four extra large cups of caffeinated coffee because I thought I needed to be awake, Jack. Do you really think there's any possibility I'm going to be able to go back to sleep in the next six to eight hours?"

"You could always go do some research on being a high school teacher," Jake said with a smirk. "You're going to need it."

Daniel frowned, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Jake's smirk just got wider.

"Jack!"

"He's just yanking your chain, Daniel. Ignore him. Come on, kid. You're going to be late."

Jake grabbed his backpack and walked past Daniel saying carelessly, "thanks for the coffee, man." The smirk widened on his face, as he added, "and good luck."

"Jack!"

* * *

Half an hour later, O'Neill found himself sitting in the outer office across from the principal's door wishing for once that he was actually wearing his full dress uniform instead of the comfortable clothes he had thrown on for his early morning meeting with Jake. Even knowing there were thirty some odd years and a succession of Air Force ribbons and medals between now and the many high school days he had spent warming a similar seat did nothing to make the experience more pleasant.

The office door opened and he winced at the sound, almost expecting his own high school principal, Mrs. Pritchard, a 60 something crone with iron gray hair always pulled back into a severe bun, to walk through the door with the disapproving scowl she'd always seemed to wear whenever she learned he was the one waiting on the other side of her door. Instead, an attractive brunette with hazel eyes who looked to be in her early 40s stepped out of the office and immediately offered her hand.

"General O'Neill, what a pleasant surprise. I'm so glad you stopped by. I'm Linda Schiler, the principal. I've been hoping to have an opportunity to meet you or some other member of Jake's family. I've been concerned about him living alone at his age and the fact that he never seems to have any relatives present at school events. It's a relief to know there's someone keeping an eye on him. He's such a fine young man and a tremendous asset to the school. It amazes me how he's been able to overcome the tragedy of his parents' death and become such a responsible young adult. You must be very proud of him."

O'Neill's first thought was that the woman had obviously confused Jake with someone else. She certainly couldn't mean the surly, obnoxious teenager he'd spent the last hour with. "Proud, oh yes, that isn't usually the first word that comes to mind when dealing with Jake, but definitely proud," he said with an amused smile. "So he's doing well in his classes, then?"

"Almost straight As," she said with surprise. "Hasn't he told you?"

"My job keeps me very busy and requires me to be out of town a lot, so I don't get to see him very often."

"That's too bad," the woman said, a hint of disapproval in her voice. "He's an exceptional young man. You're missing a great deal not getting to know him better."

O'Neill's back went up at the implied reprimand, but he said pleasantly, "I'm sure I am. But Jake understands why it's necessary."

"Of course, General," she responded formally, her voice having lost all the warmth of her initial greeting.

"I don't want to take up too much of your time, Ms. Schiler, but Jake suggested your science teachers might be interested in having one of my officers come in to speak about the deep space telemetry research we've been doing at Cheyenne Mountain. He also mentioned the career events you hold for juniors and seniors and thought you might be interested in having me or one of my officers come in to discuss career options in the Air Force. There's a lot more available than just maintaining and flying jets these days."

The woman's smile grew warm again, "That would be wonderful. I'm not surprised Jake suggested the deep space telemetry talk. He's absolutely brilliant in Astronomy. I think he's actually taught his teacher a few things in that class."

O'Neill's smile was more genuine this time. "Really. Somehow that doesn't surprise me at all."

* * *

&


	2. JakeCh2

_**Chapter 2**_

"Are you sure this is really necessary, sir?" Lt. Col. Samantha Carter asked skeptically as SG-1 joined the General at the briefing table later that day. "The whole thing sounds a little farfetched to me. How do you know, um, the boy . . . ."

"His name is Jake, Carter."

"Okay, Jake. How do you know Jake's not just imagining things, or making it up. He's got to be pretty bored being in high school after living, well, excuse me for saying, sir, but after having lived 'your' life."

O'Neill forced himself to keep from clasping his hands together in front of him and instead picked up a pen and began tapping it against his notebook. "Who is Jake, Carter?"

"Beg your pardon, sir."

"Come on, Carter. You're the one who explained it to me. Who is he?"

"He is a clone of you, O'Neill," Teal'c interjected evenly, "only with a much younger body because the clone did not grow to full maturity."

"Right. He's me. My life, my upbringing, my experiences, my knowledge of what the hell goes on around here. Tell me something, Carter. If I had to leave the SGC for some reason, do you see me calling you up and taking up your valuable time -- which I happen to know is usually being spent saving this planet, if not the entire galaxy -- on some wild goose chase, no matter how bored and unhappy I was?"

"No, sir," Carter responded reluctantly.

"So we give him the benefit of the doubt for now," O'Neill said. "Besides, if there's any possibility that any of the children of base personnel are at risk, we have an obligation to take it seriously. Those people put their lives on the line every day. The least we can do is make sure their families are kept safe while they're doing it."

"Yes, sir," Carter responded firmly.

"So where do we stand, Jack," Daniel asked.

"Today is Wednesday. Carter and I are visiting the school tomorrow to discuss the arrangements for the deep space telemetry talk and the recruiting visit which are both going to be held next Wednesday. One or both of us should be able to find excuses to visit the school for a few hours every day until then. Your teaching credentials should be ready this afternoon, but it may take another day or so to get you inserted in the sub pool without it sending up any red flags.

"I wanted to get Teal'c inside the school but I've run into problems with that, so I got him on the construction crew instead. He's not going to have as much freedom of movement there as I'd like, but it's the best that could be done on such short notice. But since Jake's report says one of the suspected bad guys is on the construction crew too, at least he'll be able to keep an eye on him.

"I'm holding off running the ID checks on our suspects until tomorrow afternoon to give us a chance to get inside. That way I can try to cover the run as a routine check on all high school personnel in preparation for the visit next week. I've already put in for a status check on our two people who are supposed to be inside and I should have the results by the end of the day. I want to know what happened to them. In the meantime, we have to trust Jake to handle things on his own and keep us informed."

* * *

As soon as the bell rang, Jake was out of his seat and heading toward the door with his backpack in one hand and his textbook and notebook in the other. Normally, Astronomy was his favorite class, but today he had been counting the minutes until he could escape. The adrenaline was pumping and he felt the familiar buzz of being on an op -- that feeling of excitement, apprehension and raw nervousness all rolled into one. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed that feeling until today.

Pretending he was trying to stuff his books into his backpack as he rushed down the hall, he let both fall to the floor, then let out a mild oath as he bent down to pick up the spilled contents of the backpack, using the opportunity to quickly scan the hall. Bad guy number 1 was at the far end dressed as a custodial worker and holding a large pushbroom he was supposed to be using to clean the hallway floors. Since his attention seemed to be on everything except his work, Jake noted he was doing an exceptionally poor job.

"Oh, wow. All your stuff spilled, Jake. That sucks. Do you need some help?" came a slightly breathy female voice.

Jake froze for a minute then slowly let his eyes rise to behold Lindsay McMenamin, a very blond, buxom, blue-eyed cheerleader, who was leaning over, looking at him intently. His mouth went dry and he had to keep telling himself, _your body is a 16 year old's, remember that. There are hormones at work here. It is not at all perverted to be thinking that 16 year old girl is incredibly hot._

"Thanks, Lindsay," he finally forced out, managing not to stammer, "but I've got it under control. Thanks for stopping, though."

"Well, if you're sure," she said, batting her eyelashes at him as she smiled, but making no move to leave.

"Yeah, I'm good."

"Listen, Jake, um, some of us are going out for pizza later. Would you be interested in coming?"

Jake's heart had been thudding in his chest and now it revved up to full hammering. "That sounds great," he responded while he placated his inner voice by telling it, _I'm still doing the job. After all, she is one of the people they've been watching._

_Yeah, sure, I really buy that one, _his inner voice shot back.

"Great," she said with a shy smile. "Meet us in the parking lot after practice. That should be around 4:30."

"Cool. I'll be there," he replied. "I need to do some research for a paper anyway, so I can go hang out in the library for awhile."

"Okay, but you're more than welcome to come watch us practice. It's always nice to get feedback on our routines."

Jake's heart felt like it had simply stopped beating. Had he really just been invited to watch the cheerleaders practice. He felt a flush rising in his face and fought it back down. "I do have to get that research done, but it shouldn't take too long. I should be out there before you're finished."

"Cool. I'll see you then," she said, gracing him with one of her brightest smiles before she turned and flounced away.

_High school definitely has its perks_, Jake thought to himself as he watched her appreciatively until she disappeared around the corner. Shoving the last book into his backpack, he suddenly remembered what he'd been doing before he'd been interrupted. He shot a quick glance down the hall, but realized number 1 was gone.

"Damn, you're losing it O'Neill. Gotta get those hormones under control," he muttered under his breath as he tossed the backpack over his shoulder and headed down the hall to try to scope out the bad guys.

* * *

An hour later, Jake made his way to the football field behind the high school. The construction crew working on the new wing that would parallel the short side of the playing field had finished for the day, but he saw several workmen lingering, pretending to clean up, although their attention was clearly focused on the practicing cheerleaders and football players and not their work.

A quick glance showed him what he was looking for, numbers 3 and 4 were located at opposite ends of the construction area -- number 3 behind the fence in his construction worker garb ogling the cheerleaders, while number 4, who was dressed as a groundskeeper and appeared to be cleaning up the area of the field just outside the construction zone, kept throwing surreptitious glances at the football players, particularly the linebacker, Scott Norcross, who Jake knew was the son of one of the gateroom technicians.

Jake's roundabout route to the library had netted him another look at number 1, who had been sweeping the hallway over by the science labs. A quick glance through one of the lab doors as he hurried by had shown Adrienne Reynolds, daughter of one of the base nurses, doing a make up lab. When he'd arrived at the library, number 2 had already been there in her guise as a library aide. Jake had felt a twinge of anxiety when he realized the smiling freshman she was helping was Laurie Foster, another of the 'SGC 13' as he'd come to refer to his group of SGC protectees.

The only one he hadn't seen yet today was number 5, the wildcard. Jake didn't like the thought of any of the bad guys being unaccounted for, but he tried to reassure himself with the reminder that he wasn't even sure yet if number 5 was with the other four.

Jake settled himself casually on one of the upper risers of the bleachers in front of the cheerleaders. The location made it easy for him to appear to be focused on the girls, while still allowing him to glimpse most of the area around the field out of the corner of his eyes without having to be obvious about it.

Lindsay saw him and gave him a little finger wave accompanied by a beaming smile, all without disrupting the flow of the intricate dance move she was executing. Jake nodded and smiled in return, letting his face relax into the type of sappy grin adults would expect from a teenage boy watching a bunch of sexy girls in tight-fitting outfits.

As he settled in to watch the rest of the practice session, Jake felt the buzz going through him again, that hyper feeling of super awareness when you were on the job, working an op and it was going just as planned. He hadn't allowed himself to think about it in so long that it was difficult now to realize how much of himself he'd had to give up in order to play his assigned role as 'typical teenage boy'.

He heard the girls cheering and kept his eyes pointed toward them and the smile plastered on his face, but Jake was lost in thought about the strange twist his life had taken. The last year had been his own personal version of hell. It had been hard enough trying to accept that even though he had the mind and memories of a man approaching 50, having the body of a 15 year old meant he'd have to start an entirely new life as a teenager. He couldn't have any contact with his family or former friends and wasn't even able to use his own name. Unable to give up his past entirely, he'd finally decided on Jacob O'Neill Wilcox to go with the new identity the Air Force had created for him.

But then he'd been slapped in the face by the limitations of the cloned body the Asgard, Loki, had grown for him. The first time he'd been 15, he'd been lean, fit and muscular from years of exercise, athletics and shoveling the huge amounts of snow every Minnesota winter brought. It had been especially galling the first time he'd attempted to do some of his usual training exercises to find that his new body was not limber or fit enough to handle it.

As if all of that hadn't been bad enough, he'd had to fight the Air Force tooth and nail to get them to push his physical age up a year in the records they were creating so that at least everyone would think he was 16, and then he'd had to fight them again to get them to agree to allow him to live as an emancipated minor. His blood still boiled when he thought about the 'parents' they'd attempted to foist on him at first. He had a feeling either Jack O'Neill or General Hammond had called in some big favors to help smooth that particular wrinkle, but he tried his best not to think about that. He didn't want to owe anyone anything, especially O'Neill.

Jake tried hard not to resent the fact that Jack had been the one to get to keep "their" life. He was the original after all. Jake understood that as a clone, he was just a copy -- and a defective one at that. But that didn't stop him from wanting to live, from wanting all the things he remembered having before, and, most importantly, from wanting people to give him the respect he'd earned from three decades of dedicated service in the military.

_I used to be a pilot, I've visited other planets through the stargate, I've been a prisoner of war and I was involved in black ops, for Christ's sake, _he thought disgustedly to himself. _Shit, I've saved the planet at least a dozen times but now my biggest challenge is figuring out what a couple of goons are doing hanging around the high school. And I can't even do a little thing like that without having to call in the cavalry. You've turned into one big LOSER, O'Neill!_

That line of thought was taking him nowhere good, so Jake mentally shifted gears to remind himself that he'd overcome all those obstacles, and now, with a little financial help from the Air Force, along with the money he had saved while working all summer, he had his own small apartment, owned an old Thunderbird that he had saved from the salvage yard and was slowly restoring, worked out regularly at a gym and was working his way steadily to black belts in both karate and tae kwon do. And even better, his made up birthday had passed a month ago so now he got to pretend to be 17 instead of 16.

He'd also grown two inches and added a lot of muscle from his various activities, which included being a school star in track, as well as hockey. Track had never been a sport he was particularly interested in, but before she died Janet Fraiser had recommended it to him as a way to build up his new body's stamina and endurance, and he'd been pleased to find out it really worked. After Janet's death, actually winning a few meets had been a big morale booster at a time he'd really needed something positive in his life. His bi-weekly checkups with Janet in her office at the hospital had been his last tie to the SGC, and once she was gone, he'd felt totally cut off from his old life and his old friends. The new doctor who had taken over for her was a stranger, and Jake had immediately lobbied General Hammond to get the checkups cut back to their current schedule of every other month.

But the thing that had really turned his attitude around had been the decision to start taking flying lessons so he could get certified under his new name. Having to take the lessons galled him considering the number of flight hours, including combat missions, he already had under his belt, but he considered it time well spent since, as always, once he was in the air, all of his earthly problems seemed to melt away. It also helped that his instructor was an old friend of General Hammond's who allowed him a lot of leeway in performing aerial maneuvers no novice should be attempting.

Things had gotten better, but none of what he'd accomplished in the past year came close to the rush he was feeling right now. Jake tried not to think about what it would be like having to return to his make believe life as a high school student when this was all over. And, in spite of the rush, there was also a small, rebellious part of him that wished he didn't have to deal with the situation at all and could just let it all go, leaving everything in Jack's very capable hands. He could almost imagine himself hopping into his car with Lindsay, putting the top down, and heading for the airstrip right now.

"Hey, Jake! What did you think?"

Jake was brought roughly back to the present by the question, but he managed not to let the fact that he hadn't been paying attention show on his face. Lindsay was staring up at him expectantly, so he beamed a dazzled smile directly at her and said, "Wow! That was great. You're terrific. I mean, all of you were terrific," he stammered.

She tilted her head and gave him a flirtatious smile, "Thanks. For both compliments. We need to change, then we'll be right out. Do you mind if I ride with you, if you have your car that is?"

"Sure, no problem," Jake said, glad he'd cleaned it out when he'd stopped for gas that morning and trying to remember if he'd left anything in it she shouldn't see. The lack of sleep the last few days was getting to him and he was a little worried that it was starting to affect his memory. He knew he hadn't left anything in the car interior in case the bad guys were looking through the windows when he wasn't around, but he couldn't remember what was in the trunk.

The 9mm Beretta he'd managed to buy three days ago from a very shady source on the street was safely hidden, unloaded, in a secret compartment sewn into his backpack along with several clips of ammunition. An extra box of ammunition was stowed in the spare tire well of the car and more was hidden under a floorboard in the apartment. A small knife was secreted in a sheath he'd worked into his left boot.

Getting caught with either the knife or the gun in school would bring a heap load of trouble down on him, but Jake wasn't willing to take the chance of going up against five potentially dangerous adversaries totally unarmed. It would be better to have a zat, but they weren't exactly available from your usual street sources and wouldn't be easy to hide even if he could get his hands on one.

A small frown creased his forehead when he imagined the look on Jack's face if he found out Jake was carrying the weapons, especially inside the school. The frown deepened when he thought about the possibility of actually having to use them there.

Just then, Lindsay burst out of the gym entrance with a big smile on her face, and he felt a burst of anger that anyone would threaten to unbalance the safe, normal world she and the others took for granted. Knowing the goa'uld were out there – a constant threat to all humanity -- was bad enough, but the thought that there were those of their own species who might want to cause these kids harm made his blood boil.

As he watched Lindsay approach, her face lit with happiness, the cold certainty settled into his chest that he would do anything he had to in order to protect her and the others from harm. No matter what the consequences to himself.

"Do you mind if a couple of the girls ride with us?" Lindsay asked as she came up to him.

"No problem," he responded. "We can fit three comfortably in the backseat, four if they don't mind being a little squished."

"Cool," she said flashing him another brilliant smile as she slipped her arm through his and they headed toward the parking lot.

* * *

Jack O'Neill frowned at the report on his desk and read it for the third time. It still didn't make any sense. A knock at the door pulled his attention from it. "Come in."

The door opened to Samantha Carter. "Sorry to disturb you, sir, but I just wanted to check in about the visit to the school tomorrow. Are we doing full dress uniforms or civvies?"

"Full dress uniforms," O'Neill said absently.

"Aren't you concerned about blowing our cover, sir?"

"No, Carter. I want the bad guys to know we're there. I'm less concerned with them bolting and disappearing than I am with the possibility of them hurting any of those kids. Even if we lose them for now, I have a feeling they'll turn up again at some point."

"Is something wrong, sir? You seem . . . unsettled."

He picked up the report and handed it to her. "Does this make any sense to you?"

She scanned the document quickly. "I don't understand, sir. Our two people assigned to the school are both on _vacation_? At the same time? With no assigned replacements for either of them?"

"Look at the authorization."

"General Hammond?" she said incredulously. "General Hammond would never do such a thing without notifying you."

"I have a call in to him right now, but his secretary says he's in a meeting with the President and won't be reachable for at least another hour."

"This situation gets stranger by the minute, sir.

"Curiouser and curiouser, Colonel. And I don't like it. I don't like it at all."

* * *


	3. JakeCh3

_**Chapter 3**_

Bright and early the next morning, Jack O'Neill was back in the principal's waiting area, but he was standing this time, not wanting to ruin the crisp lines of his dress uniform. Carter sat easily in the chair he had occupied yesterday, also in dress uniform, one ankle crossed demurely over the other, a smile on her face as she looked curiously around the room.

_I'll bet she never got called to the principal's office even once in her entire life_, O'Neill thought irritably. Having the uniform on made him feel better, more anchored to the present. The memories he'd had the day before of the teenager who'd spent so much time in the principal's waiting room because he was too busy dreaming of flying or traveling among the stars to care about mundane things like English or Social Studies were locked back in his mind, embarrassed to try and slip out past the neat rows of shiny medals and ribbons that adorned most of the left side of his chest.

That boy had eventually grown up and realized the importance of concepts like duty, responsibility and loyalty. But there was a small part of him that wished he had learned those lessons sooner and not wasted so much time and energy that could have been channeled into more productive pursuits.

The door opened and Linda Schiler walked out with a smile on her face, her hand partially extended. When she saw O'Neill, she stopped for a moment and her mouth dropped open in surprise. Recovering herself quickly, she moved forward again, "General, thank you for stopping by again today. I didn't realize you'd be in uniform, it took me a bit by surprise."

Carter tried to hold back the amused grin that wanted to cross her face at the principal's discomfiture. Even though she was engaged to Pete Shanahan now, Sam could still appreciate how good O'Neill looked in full dress uniform. And she had noticed plenty of other women also admiring the view as they'd walked into the building and down the hall to the principal's office. O'Neill was, of course, so totally focused on their mission, he was oblivious to all the appreciative glances being directed his way.

"I have an important meeting back at the base later and knew I wouldn't have time to change," he said with a shrug. "I hope it's not a problem."

"No, of course not," the principal said, allowing herself a quick glance at the impressive rows of medals and ribbons decorating the uniform. Her own father had been in the military so she recognized many of them, but could not remember ever seeing so many on one person before. It was very clear she had seriously misjudged Jake Wilcox's cousin the day before. From the type and variety of decorations it was obvious the time he wasn't able to spend with Jake was spent in the field and not simply wasted on Air Force bureaucracy or petty politics.

"I wanted you to meet Lt. Colonel Samantha Carter," O'Neill said as Sam got gracefully to her feet to walk over and join them. "Colonel Carter is an astrophysicist and our expert on deep space telemetry. She'll be giving the talk next week and will also be joining me in the career session to discuss opportunities for women in the service."

"Colonel, it's a pleasure to meet you," Linda said offering her hand.

"Ms. Schiler, thank you for allowing me to speak to your students," Carter said, taking the proffered hand and shaking it warmly. "I hope they'll enjoy hearing about our research. I realize it sounds like a dry subject, but I'll do my best to make it interesting for them."

"I'm glad to hear it. Please call me Linda. I've gotten a lot of positive feedback about the idea so far, so I've been considering making it an all-school assembly. Is that all right with you or would you prefer it be limited to upper level students or those specifically interested in astronomy and astrophysics?"

"Whatever works best for you is fine with me. I think the subject matter is general enough that even those not particularly interested in the sciences can grasp it. And we have some fascinating new images from the Hubble that everyone should enjoy. I would like an opportunity to meet with some of your science teachers, if you don't mind, to see if I can tailor the presentation to their specific curricula."

"Of course. I'm sure they'd appreciate that."

"And at some point in the next few days, I'd like to look over the space where the talk will be held to see what equipment I need to bring with me.

"I'll be happy to arrange it."

"It seems that you ladies have everything under control here, so I think I'll head back to the base for my meeting now," O'Neill said. Locking his eyes on Carter's for a moment, he said pleasantly, "Colonel, be sure to call if there's anything else you need me to take care of."

Responding to the real message in his eyes that said 'call me right away if there's any trouble,' Carter gave a brisk, "Yes, sir."

* * *

Jake was humming as he headed down the hall to his third period Social Studies class. The pizza outing the night before had been a lot more fun than he'd expected. There had been almost two dozen kids there, taking up five tables in the restaurant, talking back and forth and making the servers crazy. It had been so long, he'd almost forgotten there had actually been fun times the first time he'd gone to high school. Last night had been a good reminder of those times and he was feeling nostalgic.

Then his smile widened as he thought about the goodnight kiss Lindsay had planted on him when he'd stopped in front of her house later in the evening to drop her off. There was no question his body was 16 from the way the hormones were zinging around at even the memory of that kiss.

And to top it all off, he'd gotten a full night's sleep for the first time in over a week, leaving him feeling centered and energized.

The smile was still on his face when he walked through the classroom door, but it slipped and he stopped dead in his tracks for a moment when he saw who was standing at the front of the room. Quickly regaining his composure, Jake strode past his usual seat to the back of the room and slid into the last desk in the middle row where, he hoped, he'd be completely out of Daniel Jackson's view.

"Good morning, class. I'm Mr. Jennings," Jackson said from the front of the room. "Mr. Fletcher had to go in for an emergency appendectomy, so I'll be your substitute for the rest of this week and possibly part of next week, too."

Jake rolled his eyes as he heard several girls giggle and start whispering excitedly to each other at the news of their reprieve from their 60, dry as dust, anal retentive teacher. As the whispering continued, Jake's eyes felt like they were going to roll out of his head and he wanted desperately to bang his head on the desk when he heard the word "cute" being used to describe their substitute. _Why me, God? Why are you doing this to me? When I suggested he be a substitute, I didn't mean for MY class!_

Jake continued to hunker down in the back of the room thinking about what the next step in his investigation should be as Daniel's voice droned on at the front of the class. Until suddenly he heard the words, "Jacob Wilcox?"

"Hunh," he said, his head shooting up guiltily.

"Mr. Wilcox, there you are. So sorry to disturb you, but according to my seating chart, you're in the wrong place. Why don't you bring your stuff and come up here to your assigned seat . . . right here in front," Daniel said.

Jake didn't miss the amused look or the slightly wicked gleam in Jackson's eye. _I'm so screwed,_ he thought to himself. _I NEVER should have teased him about the substitute teacher thing. Dork, I'll bet he really did go home and study up on being a sub just in case he got a chance to stick it to me like this. _

"Oh, sure thing, Mr. Jenkins," he said with a cocky grin, as he gathered his backpack and books and moved to the indicated seat, "whatever you say."

"That's Jennings not Jenkins," Daniel responded pleasantly.

"Oh, right, sorry, Mr. **Jennings**," Jake said shooting Daniel an amused grin that let him know the mistake had not been accidental.

"No problem," Daniel said easily. "I'll make sure you have plenty of reason to remember it."

_Damn!_ _I'm so totally screwed_, Jake thought miserably as he slid into his seat and pulled out his book.

* * *

Samantha Carter unconsciously smoothed the skirt of her dress uniform as she made her way down the empty hall to the girls' bathroom. She could hear the sounds of restless movement from behind the doors she was passing as students prepared to make a break for it as soon as the bell rang.

The principal had told her she was welcome to use the faculty restroom and she intended to take her up on that later in the day, but Carter had a feeling she'd overhear more interesting tidbits from the students. She remembered from her own not so distant days in high school and the Air Force Academy that the female student network always seemed to be buzzing with the hottest gossip and the latest goings on around the school before the faculty and staff even knew what was happening, and sometimes without them ever finding out.

_The things I do for my country_, she thought as she pushed open the door and was assaulted by the odor of a multitude of different perfumes and hair products mixed together, overlaid by the smell of cleaning products and topped with a hint of cigarette smoke.

_Some things never change._ Crinkling her nose, Carter went into one of the stalls, wiped off the seat and put a tissue cover on it before sitting down, then pulled a pair of sneakers from her totebag. She heard the bell ring in the hallway as she tossed her heels in the bag and quickly shoved her feet into the sneakers. Almost immediately she heard the door to the bathroom open and a gaggle of girls came pouring in chattering excitedly.

"Oh my god!" came an excited voice. "Can you believe Fletcher might be gone as long as a week and a half? Maybe even longer if there are complications. If we keep this sub there's some possibility I might be able to pass the next test, but if Fletcher's back by then, I'm dead meat. He's so boring, I end up zoning out after five minutes."

"Pray for complications," came another voice.

"Why would you care, Clare? You're Fletcher's pet. Have you ever gotten less than an 'A' in his class?"

"I'm good at all that crap so I'd get an 'A' no matter who was teaching the class," Clare responded matter-of-factly, "but that sub is hot."

"Compared to Fletcher, Mr. Jiminez the 50 year old maintenance guy is hot."

Clare sighed. "You simply have no imagination, Jen. Take a good look at him tomorrow, especially those eyes. I've made the study of the male species into an art form and let me tell you there are some nice lines of muscle hidden under that shirt. Just watch him move and you'll see. Better yet just imagine him without the glasses and shirt."

"Oh, my," came Jen's voice. "Is it just me or is it getting hot in here?"

Carter put her hand over her mouth to stifle the fit of giggles that hit when she realized they were talking about Daniel.

"You think every guy under 60 is hot," came another voice.

"Speaking of which, did you see that Army guy who went into the principal's office earlier. Oh my god! He might be close to 60, but talk about hot!"

"Don't you know anything, Amy?" came Clare's withering voice. "He's not Army, he's Air Force. They have absolutely the best dress uniforms," she continued a bit dreamily. "There is nothing quite as appealing as a man in dress uniform, unless it's watching him take it off."

"Well, what was in the uniform looked good to me," Amy responded resentfully as the other girls giggled.

"God, Amy, he's old enough to be your father, maybe even your grandfather."

Carter had to practically shove her hand down her throat to keep the laughter down at that one.

"Maybe, but neither my father or my grandfather ever looked that good."

Another voice chimed in, "That's so twisted, Amy. You do know who he is, don't you?"

"Of course. He's one of the bigwigs from Cheyenne Mountain," Clare interjected, a trace of boredom in her voice. "He and the female officer that came with him are here about some astronomy speech she's giving and a career day thing."

"That's not what I mean," the other girl said, obviously excited she would be giving them a scoop. "He's Jake Wilcox's cousin."

"What!" came several excited voices.

"I thought Jake didn't have any family."

"Isn't he a little old to be Jake's cousin?"

"Well, it's like a second or third cousin or something like that. Patty was working in the office yesterday when he first came in -- he was wearing civvies then – and again this morning when he arrived."

"Did he look as good in the civvies?" Amy asked wistfully.

"Be quiet, Amy," Clare snapped. "What else did Patty hear?"

"He's a General. His name's O'Neill, I think. And Patty thinks he's around her father's age, Amy -- he'll be 50 next year. The woman is Colonel Carter. Evidently he's somebody really important because he's got a ton of medals and ribbons and he told Ms. Schiler he doesn't get to see Jake very often because of his job."

"Poor Jake," Amy said sympathetically. "You know his parents were killed in a car accident, don't you. And they were both only children so he doesn't have any aunts or uncles or anything like that. And his grandparents are all dead. It must be so lonely for him, living by himself and all. It's a shame his only family is too busy to spend any time with him."

"Well, don't worry about Jake, Amy," Clare said haughtily. "I understand Lindsay McMenamin was all over him at Pizza Palace last night. I'm sure she'll keep him from being too lonely."

There was a fresh round of giggling at that.

"Talking about hot guys," came another new voice, "I had gym out on the field this morning and I saw a gorgeous new guy on the construction crew. Dark coffee skin, really short black hair, and god, the muscles on him."

"Better looking than that new guy who showed up last week?" Jen asked.

"Absolutely. I can't believe you even think he's cute."

"You know, it's kinda weird how many new people are suddenly popping up around here," Clare said. "There's that new custodial guy, the new grounds guy and the new aide in the library that started last week too. And earlier this week there was that guy from the computer company who's doing the software upgrades."

"Talk about dreamy," Jen said, "he's got that Brad Pitt thing going on."

Carter leaned forward in anticipation of some gossip about the mysterious fifth bad guy.

"So what, Clare?" Amy giggled, "You think it's some kind of conspiracy or something?"

"Don't be stupid, Amy," Clare said crossly, "it's just an interesting coincidence, that's all."

"Holy cow, look at the time," Jen suddenly broke in. "We're all going to be late."

There was the rush of feet toward the door and then a string of curses as Carter heard the sound of the bell ringing right outside. Pulling the sneakers off her feet, she quickly pulled the heels back out of the totebag and put them back on, tossed the sneakers back in the bag, opened the stall door cautiously to check for stragglers, then quickly washed her hands and exited the restroom to return to the principal's office.

* * *

Feeling his temper spike, Jake spun the dial on his locker a third time, trying to get it to open. The good feelings of earlier that morning were gone, replaced by a simmering resentment. Finally he managed to get the combination right and pulled the door open, allowing it to slam back against the locker next to it. He grabbed the books he'd need for his afternoon classes and threw in the books from his morning classes, feeling some small satisfaction at the loud thunk that advertised how hard he'd tossed them.

True to his word, Daniel had made sure Jake wouldn't forget his alias by calling on him for every third question, whether Jake had his hand raised or not. Jake had the satisfaction of having seen the grudging respect in Daniel's eyes by the end of the class when he had gotten every answer right, but he still resented the fact that Jackson had tried to embarrass him in front of the class.

_You used to be my friend. _The thought slipped through his mind unbidden and he slammed the locker door with all the force he could muster. _No, he was never **your** friend, he's **Jack's** friend. You're just the defective copy, remember. The black sheep of the family that everybody tries to pretend doesn't exist._

And good old Jack, parading around school in his full dress uniform, all of his medals and ribbons on full display, for everyone, including the bad guys, to see. Part of him understood why Jack was doing it -- if the bad guys got nervous and bolted, all the kids would be safe – but it still stuck in Jake's crawl that O'Neill was being so blasé in sacrificing all the hard work he had put into setting up this op in the first place.

_What am I even doing here? This is such bullshit,_ he thought, punching the locker in frustration.

"Hey, Jake. You okay?"

Startled, Jake turned toward the owner of the voice. "Oh, hi, Lindsay. Yeah, I'm fine. I've just got some stuff on my mind, that's all."

"I heard the social studies sub was giving you a hard time. Don't worry about it. He'll be gone in a couple of days."

"Yeah, I know," he said, surprised by the feeling of sadness that swept over him at the thought. In a week, maybe less they'd all be gone from his life again -- Daniel, Carter, Teal'c and, best of all, Jack. He knew he should be relieved by that thought, possibly even happy, but he wasn't.

Over the last year, he'd done everything in his power to exorcize the ghosts of Jack O'Neill's life from his reality, to make a new and different life as Jacob O'Neill Wilcox. But now that he'd had a small taste of that old life, he found himself longing for it again, wanting to be back among the people who knew who and what he was, the people he could talk to openly about goa'ulds and death gliders, Asgard and clones.

"Do you mind if I ask you a question, Jake?" Lindsay asked, pulling him out of his dark reverie. "It's kind of personal."

"Only if I don't have to answer if I don't like the question," he said with a half-hearted smile.

"Is General O'Neill really your cousin? I mean, I didn't realize you had a relative at Cheyenne Mountain. My mother works there too."

"He's a distant relative," Jake said, unable to keep the annoyance out of his voice. "He pops up every once in awhile because he feels obligated to keep an eye on me since my parents died. I don't like to talk about it because I know he's a big shot up there now and I don't want anyone here to feel uncomfortable talking to me. It's not like he confides in me or me in him. We're not that close."

"I'm sorry, Jake. It's just that I sometimes overhear my mother talking to my father about work. She can't say much because it's all so hush-hush, but I know she thinks the world of General O'Neill, Colonel Carter and the other people they work with. She came home really upset one time and said if it wasn't for them, we'd all be in big trouble. She never explained what she meant, but I'd never seen her that upset before."

"Yeah, he's something else, all right," Jake said, not even sure himself how he meant it to sound. "They all are."

Lindsay reached out and put her hand comfortingly on his arm, "You don't have to be alone any more, Jake -- not if you don't want to be. I'm here for you -- if you want me to be."

Jake felt his throat close as a swirl of emotions swept through him so quickly, he didn't have time to identify them all -- but one of the ones he did recognize was loneliness. Finally, he managed to force out, "Thanks Lindsay. I appreciate it. That really means a lot to me."

She smiled at him and slid her hand down to his and squeezed it. "I better go before I'm late for class," she said. "Can you meet me after practice?"

Jake opened his mouth to speak, but the lie that had come so easily to his lips refused to pass through them. "I don't know," he finally said, trying to stay as close to the truth as he could. "I may have to see Jack -- General O'Neill -- later this afternoon. If I'm not there when you're done, don't wait for me, okay."

"Okay," she said, "but do you mind if I hope you're able to make it."

He smiled at that. "I hope I'm able to make it too. See you later."

She started to turn away, then impulsively turned back and planted a soft kiss on his cheek. "Just some incentive," she said with a coquettish smile as she turned and hurried down the hall.

Jake grinned at her retreating form, still feeling the warmth of the kiss on his cheek. That warmth slowly faded along with his smile as he watched her disappear around a corner. _I don't care what Jack thinks, I'm getting those guys. I'm not going to let them get away and possibly come back later when we've let down our guard again. None of them are ever going to hurt her -- or any of the rest of them -- as long as I'm alive to stop them!_

* * *


	4. JakeCh4

_**Chapter 4**_

"So, kids, did everyone have fun at school today?" O'Neill asked with a paternal grin as SG-1 settled into their seats around the conference table later that afternoon.

"This teacher thing isn't that bad after all," Daniel said with an amused smile. "I'm thinking once we finally defeat the goa'uld, I might make a career out of it."

"From what I overheard in the girls' bathroom today, that news will make some people very happy," Carter said with an impish grin.

It took the comment a moment to register, then Daniel's head shot her way. "They were talking about me in the girls' bathroom?"

"Oh, yeah," Carter said suggestively, trying to suppress the grin.

"Come on, Sam! What were they saying?"

"I'm so sorry to interrupt this meeting of the Daniel Jackson appreciation society, but aren't we supposed to be discussing a potentially dangerous situation at the high school -- or did I miss another memo," O'Neill snapped, his tone edged with sarcasm. "Did you learn anything that's actually useful in the girls' bathroom, Carter."

"Sorry, sir," Carter said wiping the grin totally off her face. "Unfortunately, it took them awhile to get through their gushing over the hot new guys on campus, so they'd just started to talk about last week's hot guys, including our bad guys, when the bell rang. One girl did mention that Jake's fourth guy is supposedly a software technician doing upgrades on the school's computer system."

"I don't like the sound of that," O'Neill said thoughtfully. "If one of them has access to the school's computer software, they can pull out all sorts of personal information and confidential data on the students and their families."

"I didn't have much time to talk to the teachers today," Carter added, "but I'm hoping to be able to pump some of them when I go back tomorrow. And if they won't talk to me because I'm an outsider, maybe they'll talk to Daniel. If I can find out where software guy is doing his next set of upgrades, I'll try to arrange it so I can be there and keep an eye on him. If all else fails, I can try to go into the computer system myself and see what he's been up to."

"What about you, Daniel? Did you learn anything interesting in the teacher's lounge today?" O'Neill asked.

"Not particularly. There was a lot of griping about how underpaid teachers are and how so much money is wasted on administrators who do nothing and stupid projects proposed by know-it-all consultants who've never set foot in a classroom. I'm hoping to have better luck tomorrow when I'm not the brand new kid on the block anymore."

"Okay," O'Neill said. "Teal'c, . . . .?"

"Wait a minute," Daniel interrupted, having finally processed everything that had been said earlier. "Sam, did you say 'hot' new guys. They think I'm hot?"

"For Christ's sake, Daniel, focus!" O'Neill barked.

"But they think I'm hot, Jack."

"They're 15 and 16, Daniel. They haven't developed taste or good judgment yet."

"I believe you said hot 'guys', Colonel Carter," Teal'c interrupted evenly. "What other men were these females discussing?"

Carter couldn't stifle the giggle that spilled out, so she tried to cover it with a cough. "Well, now that you mention it, I think both you and the General came up during the discussion."

"Teal'c and what Gen . . . ?," O'Neill started to say, then his eyes widened. "Wait a minute, somebody said **I** was 'hot'?"

"They think he's hot, too?" Daniel asked dubiously.

O'Neill did a doubletake as the comment sank in. "And just what is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, nothing," Daniel said innocently as he doodled carelessly on his pad. "Nothing at all. Forget I said it."

Even though O'Neill was shooting him the glare of death, Daniel couldn't restrain himself, "I know what it is! He was wearing the full dress uniform with all the medals wasn't he? I've noticed girls really seem to go for the uniform."

Flashing back to Clare's similar but slightly more off-color comment in the bathroom earlier in the day, Carter put her hand over her mouth to try and restrain the laughter that exploded from her. She only succeeded in smearing her lipstick as the peals of laughter cascaded out until tears were running down her face. She was surprised and gratified when a deep bass laughter join her own and she looked over to see Teal'c doubled over the table, his normally placid face stretched into a huge grin as he too laughed uncontrollably.

O'Neill's head went back and forth between the two of them for several seconds until finally he shook it and bellowed, "All right already, it wasn't **that** funny."

Carter knew better than to respond to that, but Teal'c forced out between chuckles, "Indeed it was, O'Neill."

"I guess I should wear the dress uniform more often then," O'Neill said thoughtfully, provoking a fresh onslaught of laughter from Carter and Teal'c. Daniel managed to keep from laughing out loud, but O'Neill could see the smile twitching at the corners of his mouth.

Finally, the laughter died down and O'Neill brought them firmly back on topic. "Now that recess is over, let's get back to business. Do you have anything to report, Teal'c?"

"Nothing of any import, O'Neill. I attempted to engage the suspect on the construction crew in conversation during our lunch period, but he was very reluctant to talk and excused himself immediately after finishing his meal. At the end of the day, I noticed him watching the cheerleaders and football players practice."

"Okay. As I already told Carter, last night I got a very strange report back on our two people missing from the school. Apparently, they were both approved to go on vacation at the same time with no replacements assigned. Said approval was allegedly provided by General Hammond, although when I was finally able to speak with him late last night, he knew nothing about it. He's checking into it at his end and will let us know as soon as he finds anything out."

"So, what does that mean?" Daniel asked. "Do you think someone faked the orders? If so, who'd be able to get away with doing something like that? Especially orders supposedly coming from General Hammond."

"That's one of the things he's looking into," O'Neill said. "He's very concerned about the possibility that someone in his office has been compromised."

"Do you think it's the rogue NID, sir?" Carter asked.

O'Neill rubbed a hand across his brow and down the side of his face wearily. "It's too soon to tell, Carter, but it's certainly their style."

"But why would the NID be interested in the children of SGC personnel?" Teal'c asked. "What could they possibly gain by harming or taking them?"

"Maybe they don't intend to actually harm or take anybody," Daniel interjected. "Maybe this is just about the threat that it could happen. You remember how they were able to get General Hammond to retire that time by threatening his granddaughters. Maybe this is just a statement to us, or to their parents -- a reminder that we shouldn't get too overconfident because we're still vulnerable in ways we haven't even thought of yet."

"Maybe," O'Neill said thoughtfully, but his eyes had gone far away and Carter could tell something had just occurred to him.

"What is it, sir?"

"Hmm? Oh, I was just thinking about something Jake said when we met him yesterday morning. He said at first he thought they were just watching him, but then, when he started watching them, he realized they were watching other kids too."

When O'Neill lapsed into a thoughtful silence again, Daniel finally said, "Okay, and that made you think what exactly?"

O'Neill shook his head dismissively. "I'm not exactly sure. But what if Jake's initial instinct was right. What if this really is about him, but when the bad guys realized he'd caught on to them, they decided they needed some cover, a way to distract him from what they were actually doing."

"Which is?" Carter asked.

O'Neill shook his head again. "I don't know. I can't figure out where to take the theory from there. If they were just trying to use him against me, they would have just taken him by now."

"What if this isn't about you at all, Jack -- well, not exactly," Daniel broke in thoughtfully.

"What do you mean?"

"What if it really is about Jake himself."

"What could they expect to gain from a teenager," Carter asked.

"You are assuming they do not know who he truly is, Colonel Carter," Teal'c interjected.

"Teal'c's right, Sam," Daniel added. "We know from past experience that the NID seems to have open access to all our records. If they know who Jake really is, all of this makes a whole lot more sense."

"In what way?" O'Neill asked gruffly. "If they know Jake is me, just in a younger body, what good could they possibly think it would do them to try and take him. You've met him. It would be like that story, 'The Ransom of Red Chief.' They'd end up having to pay us to take him back."

The joke netted a few smiles from the others and a muttered, "that's for sure," from Daniel, before O'Neill continued, "He's not going to give them any information. We've changed all the security codes and security protocols he knows about anyway, so nothing he could tell them would be very useful."

"I have to disagree with that, sir," Carter said with concern. "He knows an awful lot about our missions that wasn't in any official reports. He knows about our tactics, weaponry and some of our new aircraft. And he also knows things about the To'kra, the Asgard and some other species that the NID might find useful."

"But, again," Teal'c interjected, "if that was their purpose, why have they not already taken the boy. Why continue this charade? Especially now that they must suspect we are aware of their presence at the school."

"Good point, Teal'c. So, again, if it's not about what Jake knows, what if it really is about who he is?" Daniel said. "What if this is all a test to see just how much like Jack O'Neill he really is."

At O'Neill's incredulous look, he added, "Think about it, Jack. Why else would they watch him instead of just taking him. And why else would they keep 4 or 5 people at the school all the time, especially since, if it is the NID, they have to know we're all there now and we might be on to them.

"And if that's really what they're doing, they're certainly getting good data out of it. Look how Jake's entire attitude toward the situation changed when they made it look like the other kids were threatened. He was totally prepared to handle it on his own when he thought he was the only one in danger, wasn't he? The only reason he called you was because he thought other people were at risk."

"It makes sense to me, sir," Carter said worriedly.

"No, it doesn't," O'Neill said gruffly. "What difference does it make if he is like me. They can't possibly expect to be able to recruit him. They already know from that time they tried to recruit me how I feel about their organization and that they can't trust me. If Jake is me, then logically the same goes for him too."

"But that's just it, Jack. Jake **isn't** you," Daniel said. "Not anymore anyway. He may have the same DNA as you and most of the same thought patterns and memories you do, but from the moment he realized he was a clone, he became a separate entity, a separate person. For the last year, he's had entirely different experiences than you have. Realistically, his entire life is different from yours now.

"Think of the two of you as identical twins -- I know the analogy isn't quite right, but work with me," he added as O'Neill gave him a disbelieving look. "There are plenty of studies on identical twins that show them getting generally the same types of jobs, marrying women of similar temperaments and appearance, but there are still differences. And if you look at twins who grow up in the same household there is usually a point when they make a concerted effort to differentiate themselves from each other. They may both become doctors, but one will be a general practitioner and one will be a surgeon.

"The studies show that while twins may share a unique bond they also share the instinctive human need for a distinct identity, separate from every other creature on the planet. Jake is already asserting that need by exploring interests that are different from yours. The fact that he knew some stuff in my class that I know you'd never be interested in, that he's pursuing track as a sport, and even that he decided to go back to high school in the first place shows he's making a concerted effort to become Jake and not just be an 'extra' Jack.

"Keeping all of that in mind, how can you be so sure he won't make different choices than you would if given the same options?"

"The boy would be a formidable asset to the rogue NID, O'Neill," Teal'c added. "Even if he is not like you in every way, the fact that he thinks as you do would give them a strategic advantage in anticipating your response to any of their actions."

"Think about it, sir," Carter broke in as O'Neill continued to frown skeptically. "I don't know about anybody else, but my first reaction when this whole thing came up was to think that Jake missed being part of the action and was making all this up to get back into the game.

"What if that's the assumption these people are under, that he's got to be bored and miserable being back in high school and is aching to get back in the thick of things. So they let him sit there and stew for a year, then toss him an interesting little puzzle to worry over. All his . . . your . . . ," she rolled her eyes and threw her hands in the air in frustration at trying to figure out the proper way to phrase any sentence that included the shared part of their history, "both of your . . . military/special ops training gets focused on the problem. And it whets his appetite for more.

"What's he supposed to do once this is over? Go back to being a normal high school kid again? Will he really be satisfied doing that once he gets a taste of his old life? Especially if he discovers he can still be effective at it, even with the body of a 16 year old."

O'Neill's frown deepened. It made a terrible kind of sense. The few times he'd thought about the boy's situation over the past year, he'd pushed it out of his mind quickly, hating to face even the thought of being back in high school again instead of out in the field exploring new worlds and chasing the bad guys. It was sadly ironic that he now found himself parked behind a desk at the SGC instead of being out in that field. And he knew how much he hated it. How much worse did it have to be for the kid, who didn't even have the option of pulling rank and putting himself on a mission if he really started to go stir crazy.

"Okay, as much as I hate this theory, it's something we have to consider," O'Neill said. "I'm going back into town to see Jake and run this past him. He needs to know what he might be up against if it all starts going to hell in a handcart."

"Do you want one of us to go with you, sir?" Carter asked.

"That's probably a good idea," O'Neill said.

"It probably shouldn't be me," Daniel said too innocently, feigning concentration as he doodled on his notepad in order to avoid meeting O'Neill's gaze.

O'Neill's eyebrow shot up, "Really? And the reason for that would be?"

Daniel shrugged. "He's a little pissed at me."

"Any particular reason?"

Daniel sighed and finally raised his eyes to meet O'Neill's steely gaze with a steady, direct one of his own, "He was in one of my classes today and was getting an attitude with me, so I leaned on him a little -- by calling on him a bunch of times to answer questions."

"So, you embarrassed him in front of his classmates by making him look stupid," O'Neill said, anger edging his voice.

"The research I did about teaching high school students said you have to assert your authority in the classroom or the students will eat you alive," Daniel replied defensively. "Besides, that's the funny part about it, that's not what happened. If he'd gotten an answer wrong, I would have stopped calling on him, but he kept getting them right. Then I got curious to see just how many he would get right before he flubbed one, but it didn't happen. He must have answered at least a dozen questions and he got them all right. And most of it was stuff I know you don't know and don't care enough to ever want to know. That's what made me think about how the two of you are becoming distinctly different people."

"So you're basically saying he's smarter than me," O'Neill said giving Daniel one of his most withering glares.

"I never said that, Jack," Daniel said with a slightly panicked look in his eyes as he tried to figure out how to get himself out of that one. "I just said he's showing interest in things that are not of interest to you."

"Hmph," O'Neill responded shooting him another glare before turning to look speculatively from Carter to Teal'c, before finally saying, "You're with me, Teal'c."

When Carter gave him a questioning look, he shrugged his shoulders, "Since we're pretty sure the bad guys already know who we are, we're not giving anything away if Teal'c goes with me. Besides," he added, embarrassment passing briefly across his face, "I promised the kid he could see Teal'c with hair before this is over."

A grin spread across Carter's face and she shook her head in disbelief. "Yes, sir," she said, trying to keep the amusement out of her voice.

&

Jake had just made it to the door leading out to the football field when the cellphone Jack had given him rang. With a muffled curse, he pulled it out of his pocket, flipped it open and snapped, "What?"

"Is that any way to answer a phone," O'Neill's tinny voice came through the device. "Don't they teach you any manners in that school."

"What? I knew it was you -- you're the only one with the damn number."

"And you're too young to be cursing like that," O'Neill added.

"What are you now, my father?" Jake snapped back irritably.

"My, aren't you in a pleasant mood today," Jack responded. "Teal'c and I are on our way down there. We need to talk to you about something."

Jake sighed heavily. He'd been so close to making his rendezvous with Lindsay. "Okay, when will you be getting here and where should I meet you?"

"Why don't we meet at your apartment?"

"Gee, what a great idea. It's not like anyone's watching me and might see you," Jake responded sarcastically.

"They'll see us wherever we meet," Jack said reasonably. "Besides, if Daniel's stupid theory is right, they already know who we all are anyway. It won't make any difference."

Jake's mouth curled into a snarl at the mention of Daniel, but he held his temper in check and asked, "what stupid theory?"

"Not over the phone, kid. We'll talk about it when we get there, which should be in about 40 minutes.

"Okay," Jake responded. "I've got an errand to do first, so I should get there about the same time."

"Fine. We'll pick up a pizza on the way."

&

O'Neill pulled into the parking lot of Jake's apartment complex five minutes later than he'd estimated and immediately spotted in the front row of parking spaces facing the building the beat up 1966 Thunderbird the teenager had salvaged from the junk yard and was in the process of restoring. He felt a stab of envy as he pulled his SUV into an empty parking spot in the second row and sat for a moment just staring at the Thunderbird, remembering how much he'd wanted one of those when he'd been a teenager. _I guess if he's got to go through high school again, he might as well have some fun doing it_, O'Neill thought wistfully.

He forced his attention from the car and glanced quickly around, getting the lay of the land. The complex consisted of four worn looking apartment buildings set in a square with the path leading from the parking lot bisecting the slightly overgrown lawn between the two sets of buildings on each side. Smaller paths broke off from the main path to lead to the front entrances of each building.

As he walked down the main path with Teal'c, who was holding the pizza box, O'Neill noted the location of the fire escapes and emergency exit doors, all of which needed a fresh coat of paint. When they came to the end of the first set of facing buildings, he was surprised to see that the area between the two buildings on each side of the path was wider than he'd expected. The space on the left held a swing set and a sand box while the open area on the right side had been turned into a small garden.

Both areas looked well cared for, and the lines of concern that had formed in his brow as he'd examined the careworn buildings relaxed slightly. He reminded himself again that Jake could take care of himself, but he was still relieved at the indications that the people who lived in this place cared enough to put in small personal touches. It was also an indication that they might care enough to look out for each other.

They turned onto the path leading to the second building on the right and entered the small foyer. O'Neill's level of concern dropped another notch when he saw the buzzer system and the heavy steel door set into a steel frame that was the tenants' first line of defense against intruders. Quickly scanning the names beside the buzzers, he pressed the button next to 'J. Wilcox.'

"Yeah," a barely audible voice crackled over the speaker.

"It's Jack," he said.

"Okay. After I buzz you in, take the elevator to the third floor. It's the third door on the left."

When a loud buzzer sounded, Jack grabbed the handle on the security door and pulled it open, scanning the locking mechanism to check how easily it could be overriden. His eyebrow went up as he noted the slight modification that had been made to make the mechanism more secure - the same modification he'd been going to make himself. As they made their way to the elevator and up to the apartment, Jack automatically took note of the location of the emergency exits, fire alarms and sprinkler heads. When they reached the apartment door, he raised his hand to knock, only to have the door swing open before his fist could reach it.

"It's about time," Jake snapped. "Come in before the neighbors get nervous and start asking questions. I don't get a lot of visitors and you two aren't exactly inconspicuous."

"Hi, Jake. It's nice to see you too. I've had a good day, thanks for asking. How was yours?" O'Neill said pleasantly as they walked through the door and into Jake's small living room.

He glanced around quickly, making note of the battered sofa against the wall to their right with a small coffee table in front of it. The medium sized tv set up on a rickety stand by the far wall facing the sofa had an X-Box system hooked up to it. O'Neill couldn't help grinning when his eye caught the Homer Simpson figure perched on top of the tv. To the left was a small desk with a computer on it. Next to that was a large bookcase packed with books of all shapes and sizes. O'Neill recognized some of them just from their covers since they were also part of his personal collection.

In the center of the far wall was an opening that led to a tiny kitchen area, barely large enough to hold a mid-size refrigerator and a stove. There was only one small countertop in the kitchen area itself, which was over top of a three drawer cabinet. The countertop was home to a small microwave oven and a toaster and had a small dish cabinet hanging on the wall over it. O'Neill could see it all clearly since a large opening had been cut into the wall dividing the two spaces and a countertop with stools had been added to create a makeshift dining/workspace area. Two grocery store bags were leaning at precarious angles on the counter.

There was a second opening next to the one for the kitchen that O'Neill assumed led to the bathroom and bedroom, but he resisted the urge to investigate. Instead he focused his attention on the posters the boy had used to brighten up the living space. It was an eclectic assortment, including tv and movie posters, images from space, assorted aircraft and tranquil fishing spots, all of which had been neatly framed and hung, giving the room a more homey and personal feel.

"Why don't you ask Daniel how my day was," the teenager said peevishly, tearing O'Neill's attention away from his cursory inspection of the apartment.

"Daniel Jackson said you performed well in his class and answered all his questions correctly," Teal'c said evenly, "so it would appear you had a good day."

Jake just stared at him a moment trying to think of a good comeback to that. Finally, he gave up and asked, "what's with the hair, Teal'c?"

Teal'c's eyes slid up toward the top of his head. "Is something wrong with my hair?"

"No, I was just wondering why, all the sudden, after being on Earth for over seven years, you decided to let it grow in, that's all."

"It was time," he responded evenly.

Jake shot a questioningly look at Jack who simply shrugged. "Oh, okay. It looks good by the way."

"Thank you," Teal'c said inclining his head slightly. "We brought pizza," he added with a smile, holding out the box.

"Cool, I'll get some plates. So what's the big emergency?" Jake added, as he moved over to the countertop to put the pizza down. "Oh, you guys want anything to drink? I've got some Cokes, iced tea, water."

"How about a beer," Jack said casually.

"Ha, ha, funny," Jake said.

Jack just stared at him. Finally a grin broke out on the teen's face and he said, "Okay, okay. I'll break into my stash for you, but you owe me for this. It's not easy for me to get the stuff, you know. You want one too, Teal'c?"

Teal'c's eyebrow raised as he said, "Indeed."

Jake went into the refrigerator and pulled two beers out of the crisper. His hand wavered over a third for a minute, then regretfully pulled back and reached for a Coke instead. It was another one of his life's little ironies that he had clear memories of long nights spent drinking his buddies under the table, but now he was back to the days of building up a teenage body's low tolerance for alcohol. _Some day_, he thought wistfully, but since he knew he needed his head to be totally clear for this discussion, he handed the beers to the other men and popped the top on the Coke, taking a long swig.

"Have a seat," he said, indicating the sofa. "I know it doesn't look like much, but it's comfortable."

As the two men settled themselves, he went back into the kitchen for some paper plates, then carried the plates and the pizza box over to the coffee table in front of his guests. As they served themselves, he pulled a stool over to face them and sat down on it as he reached over to grab some pizza for himself. "So what's the genius' stupid theory?" he asked, with a hint of sarcasm.

"Before I tell you," Jack said, "I'd like to know what you think is going on."

Jake took a deep, considering breath before answering. "I'm not exactly sure right now," he admitted grudgingly. "I expected most of them would be gone as soon as they spotted all of you at the school, but I did a pass through their usual haunts before I left to come here, and they were all still there. Of course, they may be trying to divert suspicion by not running right away, but it's still odd."

"Have you seen the fourth guy today?"

"He was in the science lab working on the computers when I had a class in there today. He never even glanced at me, though; he seemed intent on his work. Maybe I overreacted about him being part of this, but I still don't think so. I can't explain why I'm so sure of it, but he just doesn't fit."

O'Neill nodded. "Don't second guess your gut, kid. That gut's gotten us out of a lot of close scrapes."

Jake gave O'Neill a long assessing gaze to make sure he wasn't making some kind of joke at his expense before nodding.

"Okay, here's where we stand." O'Neill went on to summarize the report about the 'vacationing' agents, the results of the team's undercover work at the school and the basics of Daniel's theory.

Jake absorbed the information thoughtfully, and Teal'c found himself looking from O'Neill to the teenager in fascination, observing the similarity in their expressions and their bearing. It was especially unnerving when Jake rubbed his forehead as if trying to shake something loose and then ran the hand down the side of his face, a common O'Neill expression of frustration.

"I hate to say it," Jake finally said, "but it's a stupid theory that might actually have some merit."

"If it does, they'll probably contact you soon. They can't afford to wait much longer now that we're on site. They have to know we'll be able to ID them soon."

"Tomorrow's Friday," Jake said. "My guess is it'll be right before the end of the school day. That way they can arrange an after school meet without giving me time to contact you; then, no matter how the meet turns out, they can just disappear."

"You up to playing decoy, kid?" O'Neill asked in his most serious tone.

"I can handle it," Jake said defensively.

"I know you can," O'Neill responded. "But that doesn't necessarily mean you want to do it."

"I don't want any of this to be going on," Jake said wearily, "but I'll do what needs to be done. After all, that's what we O'Neills do, right Jack?" he added pointedly.

Jack stared at him for a long moment before finally replying, "That's right, Jake."

11


	5. JakeCh5

_**Chapter 5**_

Shortly before noon the following day, O'Neill was finishing up some paperwork in his office before heading out to the high school, when there was a knock on his door. He looked up to see Tech Sergeant Walter Davis, one of the gateroom techs who also occasionally acted as his own personal 'Radar O'Reilly' when the paperwork got too overwhelming.

"Excuse me, sir, but General Hammond is here with a Colonel Sanford." Davis' eyes gave a furtive glance to his right, then his voice dropped conspiratorially, "Sir, the General looks **really** pissed."

O'Neill's eyebrow went up at that. Hammond believed those in command needed to be a positive and calming influence on those who served under them, so it took a lot to push him to actually show his anger in front of the troops. "Then you better not keep him waiting, Sergeant."

"Yes, sir," Davis said, stepping back out of the room. A moment later he returned with the two officers.

When Hammond came through the door, the first thing O'Neill noticed was how red his face was and the pulsing of the veins near his forehead that indicated the level of anger he was attempting to hold in check.

"General, this is a surprise," he said extending his hand to shake the older man's. "Your timing is perfect. A few minutes later and you would have missed me. I was just getting ready to leave for the high school to check on the arrangements for the public relations events next week."

Hammond's jaw set and the vein in his head throbbed harder for a moment, as if it were attempting to burst. "I'm sorry to have to interrupt your busy schedule, Jack. But there have been some important developments at my end that I need to discuss with you. This is Colonel Sanford," he added, the disgust clear in his voice. "He's with . . . ."

". . . Special Forces," O'Neill finished the sentence. He would have recognized the type anywhere. It wasn't just that the man was dressed completely in black, carried himself like a panther ready to strike and had enough weaponry packed on him to take out a small country single-handed. It was his eyes -- cold, dark and lifeless -- the eyes of a man who'd seen one too many atrocities and was having difficulty straddling the fine line distinguishing the traumatized but functional from the dysfunctional bordering on psychotic.

"General O'Neill," the man said formally, extending his hand, "I've heard a great deal about you, sir. Some of your exploits with special forces are legendary. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"It's nice to know someone still cares," O'Neill said with false sincerity, a phony smile plastered on his face, as he reluctantly took the man's hand and shook it. "They never call, they never write, so it's hard to know."

A confused look crossed Sanford's face as he struggled to interpret the meaning of O'Neill's odd statement.

O'Neill was pleased to see the confusion. He had a great amount of respect for most of the people he had known in his Special Forces days. They were men and women who did some of the most difficult, dangerous and unpleasant work the government needed done without complaint and usually without any reward or even much appreciation. But he hadn't liked Sanford the minute the man walked through the door and Hammond's attitude only reinforced his own instinctual distrust.

Putting on one of his most effective O'Neill disarming smiles to further keep the man off-balance, he added pleasantly, "So what can I do for you gentlemen today?"

"Actually, sir," Sanford said, pulling himself up to his full height, "it seems I owe you an apology. I've been running a covert op in your backyard, so to speak, and it appears you and some of your people have inadvertently been dragged into it. I deeply regret that you've had to expend time and resources unnecessarily due to an unfortunate miscalculation on my part."

O'Neill stared at him for a long moment, trying to make sense of the jumbled apology and not liking the translation he was coming up with. "Are you trying to tell me that you're responsible for the suspicious people hanging around the high school?"

Sanford shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. "Well, obviously, sir, my people haven't been doing a very good job if they've been noticed enough to be labeled 'suspicious.'"

"And just what is the purpose of this covert operation that my people have been inadvertently dragged into?"

Sanford looked even more uncomfortable. "I'm not at liberty to say, sir. I'm simply here to apologize for inconveniencing you and to let you know you can withdraw your people from the high school. No one there is in any kind of danger. You have my word on that."

O'Neill leaned back in his chair and gave the man his most withering glare. "'I'm not at liberty to say' is not good enough, Colonel, and, since I don't know you, your word is meaningless. Suspicious looking individuals have been spying on the family members of personnel assigned to this base. And since those being spied on include my own cousin," he added, feeling some satisfaction when he caught the tiny flicker of surprise that crossed the man's face, "and threats to my family are something I take very seriously, you'll have to excuse my pissiness when I tell you to take your apology and stuff it where the sun doesn't shine.

"My people aren't going anywhere until you either explain to me exactly what is going on or you remove your people from the school and give me some kind of assurance -- one that I actually believe -- that they won't ever be back unless I get a damn good explanation in advance as to why they need to be there."

Sanford's face grew stony and his body hummed with tension as he glared back at O'Neill, all pretense at friendliness gone. "I'm under strict orders from the Pentagon, sir, and those are the orders I have to obey. I can understand your concern for the family members of the people who serve under your command, but perhaps you and General Hammond should speak privately before this discussion escalates any further."

O'Neill turned a questioning gaze to Hammond whose fury-filled eyes met his own. "I think that might be best, Colonel," Hammond said tightly. "Why don't you wait outside for a few minutes."

"Yes, sir," Sanford said, throwing them both a salute without meeting their eyes, before turning and stalking out of the room.

"What the hell . . . ?" O'Neill started to say.

"Believe me, Jack, I'm as angry about this as you are, but my hands are tied here. Permission for this operation was given at the highest levels. I even called the president, but he's too busy to take the time to talk to me about this right now, and in the meantime he's not willing to overrule his military advisors on this one."

"What operation, General? What the hell are they doing?"

Hammond sighed heavily. "I'm not supposed to tell you, but this whole thing is outrageous, and I believe you, more than anyone else, have a right to know.

"Dr. Jackson had the right idea with his theory, Jack, just the wrong players. Special forces is very interested in Jake. They believe his youth combined with your specialized knowledge of aircraft, weapons, tactics and alien worlds will make for an exceptional operative. This whole thing at the school has been a test to see how he'd react and what exactly he would do if faced with a threatening situation. They want to see if he's ready to be brought back into the fold."

"For Christ's sake, he's only 16 years old!" O'Neill exploded. "They want to recruit him into special forces already! He hasn't even finished high school yet!"

"I had the same reaction, Jack, but the powers that be aren't interested in how old his body is. They've been told he has your mind and, for what it's worth, they consider that a pretty valuable asset."

"Well, I'm just feeling the love," O'Neill snarled, his voice dripping sarcasm. "They value my mind so much, but they didn't think I should have any input into this?"

"Those supporting the idea felt that your judgment would be clouded by your personal connection to the boy. They also argued that since it's technically the boy's life, not yours, there was no need to consult you."

"How convenient. They want him for my mind, but since it's his life, the decision should be up to him." He was silent for a moment then, suddenly suspicious, asked, "How long have you known about this, sir?"

Hammond sighed heavily, "I just found out last night when I followed a lead about that vacation memo. Apparently they felt my judgment would also be impaired due to my friendship with you, so I was also kept out of the loop. I was on the phone late into the night and most of this morning trying to either get this thing canceled or at least get it postponed so we could talk to them about the possible consequences this could have for the boy before they took it any further."

"No luck." It was a statement, not a question.

"I'm afraid not. Everyone seems to be enamored of the idea of having another Jack O'Neill in the wings ready to go out and save the world."

O'Neill's fist slammed down on the desk so hard he felt the vibration straight up his arm, but it did nothing to ease the fury that was coursing through him. Emotions swirled and collided within him, but he was surprised to find that the first thought to drift out of the morass was, _It isn't fair. Haven't I done enough already?_

Struggling to regain control over his emotions, O'Neill finally managed to force out between gritted teeth, "So how does this work. If he passes the test he's in; if he doesn't, he's out?"

"That's pretty much it," Hammond acknowledged, "although I'd add the caveat he's out for now. I'm sure they'll just wait around until they think he is ready."

"And what if he doesn't want to do it? Does he have any choice in that part of it or do the powers that be think because he's just a clone and they're currently paying his bills, he's their own personal Jack O'Neill action figure to do with as they please?"

"I don't honestly know, Jack," Hammond said heavily, his shoulders slumping wearily. "Everyone seems confident he'll jump at the chance to get back in the game. I don't think any of them have even considered the possibility he might say no. You've talked to him recently. Do you believe he might?"

"I don't know," O'Neill said bitterly. "I think he should say no, at least for now, but I don't know what he'll do. He certainly jumped into this investigation with both feet. The report he prepared for me was top-notch work. And the fact that he called me when he realized he was getting in over his head -- that took a lot of guts and showed exceptional judgment."

"Then maybe they are right and we are just overreacting because of our personal connection to the boy."

"You don't believe that any more than I do, General," O'Neill said wearily. "They're manipulating him into making a choice he may not be physically or mentally ready to make after all he's been through. Last year, he made the conscious choice to go back to high school. I'm not sure exactly what his reason was for that -- maybe it was just a desire to have a normal life for awhile, or maybe he just needed a break from being shot at with all kinds of weapons, stabbed, beaten up, infested by goa'uld and all the other fun things that make up a normal day around here. I don't really know. But he's got a right to keep making his own decisions about that life and not have them foisted on him by overeager bureaucrats."

"Well, unfortunately, we no longer have any say in that. I've been ordered to stay out of this and allow Colonel Sanford to continue his operation without interference. And I was specifically told to pass that order down the line to you and that you are to pass it down the line to your subordinates."

"And if I ignore that order?"

Hammond sighed heavily again and weighed his words carefully. "Jack, you're smart enough to realize this is about more than Jake. He's not the only one being manipulated here. There are still people who see your scruples as an obstacle to their acquiring alien technology, whether for profit or other purposes. They'd like nothing better than to see you step too far over the line and get yourself removed from this command, or, better yet, forced to retire altogether."

"So if I interfere in any way, I'm out," O'Neill said with a bitter laugh. "It's almost funny. Now that they have a younger, and hopefully more easily influenced, model available, they don't need the old fart original around any more gumming up the works. There's got to be some kind of great, cosmic irony in being rendered obsolete by yourself."

"Jack, I'm not going to try to tell you what to do. I know how hard this is for you. But I will remind you that your career is not the only thing at stake here. If they remove you as head of the SGC, I can't think of one person they'd be willing to give the job to who I'd trust to have it. The lives of every person at the SGC could be affected by whatever decision you make here today."

O'Neill felt his lips twitch into another bitter smile. "You think I don't know that? Why do you think I ever agreed to take this lousy job in the first place," he snapped, running his hand wearily through his hair. "No disrespect meant to you by that, sir; but I'm a field man, General; I've always been a field man. I want to be out there shooting at the bad guys myself, not sending other people, especially kids not much older than Jake, out there to do it for me and possibly getting themselves killed instead.

"I hate being stuck behind a desk pushing papers around every day while Carter, Teal'c and Daniel go off without me, but then I remember that moron Bauer they put in here when you were forced to retire. I try to tell myself they couldn't possibly do worse than him, but you know what? I'm not convinced of that." He shook his head wearily again and put his hand up to rub his now aching forehead.

Hammond looked at him sympathetically. "You've given more of yourself to the battle against the goa'uld than any of us ever had any right to expect, Jack. You deserve better than this."

"We all deserve better than this, General," O'Neill responded with frustration as he continued rubbing at the ache steadily building in his forehead. "Why is it we never seem to get it, and especially not from our own people, who are the ones who should appreciate what we do the most?"

Hammond stood reluctantly. "I'd better get out there before Sanford gets nervous and starts making phone calls."

"Yeah," O'Neill responded, "you'd be doing both of us a big favor to get that pompous jerk off my base before I decide to give him a baseline O'Neill asskicking to assist him in analyzing his test results."

Hammond gave a grim smile at that and extended his hand. O'Neill reached over to shake it. Before releasing his hand, Hammond looked him straight in the eye and said, "You're a good man Jack O'Neill. I want you to know that, however this turns out, it's been one of the greatest privileges of my career to serve with you."

Surprise flared in O'Neill's eyes briefly, then a genuine warmth filled them. "I feel the same, sir."

Hammond chuckled lightly as he released O'Neill's hand, "I don't suppose I'm ever going to get you to call me George, am I?"

"Not likely, sir. Unless of course you'd like to come out to the cabin to go fishing some time. Fish don't care much for rank or titles."

"I'd like that, Jack. Take care of yourself," he added before turning and disappearing through the door.

&

Jake's adrenaline was pumping as he walked down the hall, running through various scenarios in his head while trying to figure out contingency plans for each. He stopped at his locker to get a book he'd forgotten earlier and wasn't surprised to see a piece of paper flutter out when he opened the door. The teenager reached into the locker to grab the book with one hand, while surreptitiously snagging the note with the other and stuffing it into the book.

Putting on the anxious face of a student who'd forgotten to finish a reading assignment, Jake held the book open in front of him as he walked down the hall toward his next class and quickly read the note. His face paled slightly and his mouth set in a grim line as he went back to read it a second time, his heart hammering loudly in his chest. He sprinted down the hall and through the door to the English class that was the only one he and Lindsay had in common. It was late enough that he knew he should be the last person in, so he was filled with dread when he saw Lindsay's seat still empty.

His heart was hammering so quickly, it felt like it would explode in his chest. Tuning out the rest of the class, he slid into his seat, opened the book again and read the note for the third time.

_We have your girlfriend. As long as you follow our instructions to the letter, _

_she will remain unharmed._

_Meet me at the abandoned Tyler Chemicals warehouse on Rte. 17 at 4:00 and _

_COME ALONE! If you call cousin Jack or any of your other SGC playmates_

_or if we spot any of them following you, the only thing you'll find there is _

_Lindsay's dead body._

Jake's hand went unconsciously to the boot with the knife as a cold determination settled over him, calming the frantic beating of his heart. _You want to play hardball, pal_, he thought coldly. _Well, I know how to play that game too. And if you lay one finger on her, you'll find out real quick how well I can play it._

&

Jack O'Neill sat at his son's grave pondering the strange twists his life had taken in the ten years since the boy's death. If Charlie hadn't died, he never would have gone on that first mission through the stargate. He never would have met Daniel Jackson or Ra, and following that line of thought to its logical conclusion, he never would have met Carter, Teal'c or General Hammond either. There would have been no Thor, Loki or other Asgard. And there never would have been a Jake to turn his life completely upside down.

_Would it have made a difference?_ he wondered. _If someone else had been in charge of that first mission, would they have followed orders and detonated that nuke on Abydos? Would Ra be dead now? Or any of the other system lords we've killed since then? Would the goa'uld have still attacked Earth but won instead of losing?_ The questions floated around in his head, taunting and unanswerable.

"Jack? Is it really you? What are you doing here?"

O'Neill looked up, startled, and met the concerned eyes of his ex-wife. "Sarah," he said, clearly flustered, "I'm sorry. I didn't expect to meet anybody here today."

"I didn't expect to be here either, but I just had this funny feeling I should come today. I don't know why. But you haven't answered my question. What are **you** doing here? You always said you hated cemeteries because you've seen enough of death."

"I had some serious thinking to do and this seemed as good a place as any to do it," O'Neill responded with a shrug.

"What's the problem. Maybe I can help."

He looked at her pensively and sighed.

"Oh, it's a classified problem," she said rolling her eyes. "We've been down this road before, haven't we."

"Yep, and it's still a pretty sucky road," he responded heavily, running a hand absently through his hair.

Sarah looked at him in concern, not remembering a time, other than right after Charlie's death, when she had seen him looking so lost. She sat down beside him and took one of his hands in her own, giving it a squeeze of comfort. They remained silent for several moments simply staring at the gravestone showing their son's birth and death dates. _So few years lived and yet that life still had such an impact on both of us_, she thought sadly.

Jack abruptly said, "We're doing some public relations programs at the high school and it just suddenly occurred to me today that if Charlie had lived he'd be in high school now."

"That's right," she responded. "He'd be a junior or a senior this year."

O'Neill nodded thoughtfully and lapsed back into silence.

"Sarah, what would you do if . . . ?" he stopped, not able to formulate a hypothetical that could sum up the complexity of the situation.

"Jack, just tell me what's going on. It seems like every time we meet up I see some really weird things, so it's not like you're going to say anything that will shock or surprise me any more."

"Oh, I think this one would give you a run for your money," he responded, rubbing his hand down the side of his face. Then inspiration struck him. "Okay, let's try it this way, then. Have you ever watched that tv show 'Wormhole Extreme'?"

Sarah laughed bemusedly, "I've seen it once or twice. The guy who plays the team leader actually reminds me a little of you."

O'Neill shot her a dirty look at that, but she just laughed again. _Sarah -- there's another great big 'what if_,' he thought as he looked at her. _What would have happened to us if Charlie hadn't died?_

"So what about this tv show?" Sarah prompted him.

"I'm thinking of sending them a script," O'Neill said, a slight smile curving his lips, "after all, I need to start thinking about funding my retirement. But I can't decide how to end the story."

Sarah looked at him, clearly perplexed, but finally said, "Well, why don't you run it past me and I'll tell you what I think."

"Okay," he replied. "There's an episode where the colonel gets kidnapped by an alien who makes a clone of him for research purposes. Only the alien makes a mistake and the clone doesn't grow to the same physical age as the colonel -- the body stops growing while it's still a teenager's -- even though he still has all the memories the colonel has. Since being stuck in the teenage body means he won't be taken seriously by adults even though he has the mind of an adult, they give him a new identity and he goes off to high school to start a new life for himself."

"That's pretty far-fetched," Sarah said with a bemused grin, "and would probably make a good spinoff, but go on, I'm fascinated."

"In my story, which will pick up about a year later, the government knows about the clone and one day they decide that since he knows everything the colonel knows, they should recruit him into the military right now because he'd be like their very own super soldier. They make arrangements to test the clone's skills without telling him what's going on and they don't tell the colonel either. Somehow the colonel finds out, but he's ordered not to interfere under the theory that even though the clone is basically made of his DNA and has all his memories, it's a separate entity and should be allowed to make its own decisions.

"The colonel agrees the clone should be allowed to make its own decisions but he thinks the government is stacking the deck and manipulating the clone into making the decision it wants. The colonel is told that if he interferes he will be removed from his current position and might even be forced to retire. There are, of course, lots of bad guys in the government who would love to get rid of the colonel, because, well, he's the hero and they're the bad guys."

"Of course," Sarah said with amusement. "So what's the dilemma?"

"Although the thought of having a clone of himself around gives the colonel the willies, he sorta likes the kid. Even though he has adult memories, he still has a teenager's body with teenage hormones and acts an awful lot like a teenage kid at times."

"Sort of reminds the colonel of himself at that age?" Sarah asked with an amused grin.

O'Neill shot her another dirty look, but a smile was pulling at the corners of his mouth as he continued, "The clone's gone through a rough time the past year trying to adjust to his new life. The colonel's worried the bad guys are going to take advantage of the kid or get him killed by pushing him into doing things he's not physically or mentally ready to handle yet after all he's been through. But if he interferes and loses his job, all the people who depend on him will be at the mercy of whatever idiot the bad guys find to put in his job. And his job involves making life and death decisions that involve those people."

"Sounds like a tough call," Sarah said, squeezing his hand again.

"No, it's not, not really," Jack responded, instinctively squeezing her hand back. "Accepting responsibility for the consequences of the decision is the hard part. Worrying about what might happen to the people left behind. The kid doesn't have anybody else to stand up for him. The colonel's got to help him. He's just got to hope for one of those surprise twists where everything works out in the end."

"Jack, are you sure about this?"

"I wasn't there for Charlie when he needed me, Sarah. I understand that, and I've mostly forgiven myself for it, but I can't let it happen again. I can't desert Jake now; especially since he doesn't have anybody else that gives a damn what happens to him."

"I know that, Jack. I think you just needed to hear yourself say it."

He gave her a weak smile as he started to get up. "I need to go toss my career down the crapper now. Thanks for listening."

"Should I ask how much of that story you just told me is actually true?" she asked, not letting go of his hand.

O'Neill's smile widened and he squeezed her hand back before letting it go. "No, because if I told you, I'd have to kill you."

She laughed and shook her head dismissively, "You'd better get going. It sounds like you have a lot of important work to do."

He nodded and walked away, her concerned eyes following him until he got into his car and drove away. She looked back at the gravestone and said wistfully, "Your father is a good man, Charlie. I wish there was more we could do to help him."

&

While heading for his last class, Jake saw Daniel Jackson standing outside his classroom talking to an attractive woman. As he drew closer, Jake was surprised to realize it was Miss Crenshaw, one of the English teachers. He didn't remember ever seeing her so dressed up before or with her hair done so fancy or wearing so much make-up. He caught a glimpse of her face as he approached and groaned inwardly at the flirty smile being directed Daniel's way.

_Jesus Christ, doesn't anybody around here have anything better to do?_ he thought to himself. It was bad enough having to watch his female classmates giggle over Jackson, but now the teachers too. _At least it'll be their problem having to live with his inflated ego after this, not mine, _he comforted himself.

He saw Daniel shift slightly as he noticed Jake approaching. "Could you excuse me, Donna," Jackson said with a flirty smile of his own, "I need to talk to this student for a few minutes before class starts. I'll see you later, though."

The woman gave him a brilliant smile and moved off down the hall.

Jake shook his head with disdain and glared at Daniel, "You do remember we're supposed to be working here, right."

"No one else seems to have a problem with the way I'm doing my job," Daniel responded, an amused gleam in his eye. "Besides, you'd be surprised at all the interesting things you find out when you get friendly with the natives."

Jake rolled his eyes in disgust as he pulled a paper out of his notebook and handed it to Jackson. "Here. This is the text of a note that was left in my locker. I had to hand write it because they don't let students use the copiers, so let me know now if you can't read any of it."

He waited a moment while Daniel scanned the note before continuing, "As you can see, if your head hasn't swelled so much from all the female attention you're getting that it's affected your vision, they specifically say they'll be watching for anyone following me, so don't. Get there on your own and try to keep from getting spotted once you arrive. I'll keep them talking as long as I can, but there are no guarantees, so don't do anything stupid, like getting lost, and leave me hanging."

Daniel's expression turned serious. "No one's going to leave you hanging, Jake. You should know better than anyone that none of us are like that. We've got your back on this, don't worry. We'll be there."

The seriousness of Jackson's expression and the concern in his eyes cut like a knife through the defenses Jake had built up to protect himself from the emotional turmoil that having to deal with his former friends and his former life had been stirring up in him. A flicker of guilt about what he was doing slid through him, but he didn't allow it to show in his eyes or face. "Okay. I'm supposed to be there by 4:00 so you should get there no later than 4:10."

"We'll be there," Daniel repeated.

"Cool," the teenager tossed out breezily and stalked away to his class, leaving Jackson shaking his head in exasperation.

&

Back at his desk at the SGC, Jack O'Neill sat looking at the two phones on his desk, trying to decide which call he should make first. Finally, he picked up the standard phone and punched in Samantha Carter's cellphone number. It was answered on the second ring.

"Good afternoon, sir."

"Not particularly, Colonel. I need you to drop whatever you're doing and come back here right away. There's been a development on one of our other projects that I need you to handle. Teal'c, Daniel and I can take care of things at the high school."

"But, sir . . . !"

"No buts, Colonel. NOW!" He felt a slight twinge of guilt as he abruptly hung up the phone, but he knew Carter was too good an officer not to do as she'd been ordered, especially since she had no reason to suspect what was really going on.

He sighed heavily as he looked at the other phone, the red one, sitting there, taunting him like a matador's cape in front of a raging bull. At last, he picked up the receiver and pressed the button that would connect him directly to the President's office.

"Good afternoon, General O'Neill," came a perky voice from the other end of the line. "How may I assist you today?"

"I need to speak to the President regarding an important matter as soon as possible."

"I'm sorry, sir, but unless this is an emergency situation the President won't be available for several hours. He's meeting with the joint chiefs now and is leaving directly from there to attend a summit with the Russian and Chinese ministers."

O'Neill's head was beginning throb as it always did when he had to deal with politicians. "I'll be sending several pages over the secure fax. Even if he can't call me back right away, I'd appreciate it if you could get them to him in the car between his appointments, then he can decide how quickly he needs to get back to me."

"Certainly, General. When will the pages be coming through."

O'Neill opened a folder he had laying in front of him and picked up the photo on top, gazing at it thoughtfully as he responded, "I have it ready to go. It should come through at your end in about one minute."

"Very well, sir. We should be able to pass them off to the president in the car in a little over an hour."

"Thank you," O'Neill said heavily and hung up the phone. He stared at the photo of Jake for a few seconds longer, then topped it with the fax cover sheet with his handwritten note and added several additional pages he had pulled from various reports behind it. With a heavy heart, he put the pages in the feeder of the secure fax and pushed the autodial button that had been colored red. As he watched the pages feed through, he could almost feel his 30 year military career being sucked through the machine with them. _Oh well, _he mused,_ at least it'll leave me more time for fishing_.

12


	6. JakeCh6

_**Chapter 6**_

When his last class ended at 2:50, Daniel Jackson went to the computer terminal, pulled out the note Jake had given him, typed in the web addresses for two different mapping websites and printed out detailed directions from both sites. Relieved when the directions provided by both sites actually matched, he stuffed the pages in his pocket, gathered his briefcase and books and went to find Teal'c.

He had just located the jaffa warrior waiting for him by the door leading to the football field that was closest to the construction site when his cellphone rang. Quickly checking the caller id, he flipped open the phone and said tensely, "Jack, where are you? I tried to reach you earlier, but Walter said you left without saying where you were going and you didn't answer your cell."

"You know how it is, a general's work is never done," O'Neill quipped. "What's going on?"

"Jake found a note in his locker this afternoon. It says for him to be at an abandoned warehouse at 4 p.m. They included the standard 'come alone, make sure you're not followed' bit, so we're not going to tail him and risk getting made. We'll parallel him on another road and try to time it so we arrive only a few minutes after he does."

"Good. Give me the address and I'll meet you there," O'Neill said. "I have a few things I need to attend to here first." After he'd copied the address down, he added, "Oh, Daniel, one more thing."

"What, Jack?"

"I had to pull Carter off this because something else big came up that I need her to handle for me while we finish this. So don't try to call her for anything. She needs to stay focused. We'll have to deal with whatever comes up on our own."

Daniel frowned at the phone for a moment, sensing something off about O'Neill's tone of voice but not able to identify it.

"Is everything okay, Jack?"

"Ask me again around 4:30, and I'll have an answer for you," he replied grimly and hung up.

* * *

Teal'c and Daniel had just reached Daniel's car, when they saw Jake's car disappear out the main entrance.

"We better hurry," Daniel said with concern. "I don't want to get too far behind him."

As they drove along, Daniel felt the tension building in him. Something didn't feel right, but he didn't know what it was. When they pulled onto the street fronting the warehouse at 3:50 p.m., he knew something was definitely wrong. "We shouldn't be there yet. It's too soon," he said to Teal'c with concern. "Give me that note."

"We are exactly where the note tells us to be, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c said evenly, as he passed the note over, "the abandoned Wright Pharmaceuticals warehouse on Rte. 25."

Daniel looked from the note to the abandoned building, then slammed his fist against the steering wheel in frustration. "He played me. The whole 'don't leave me hanging' speech was just for show. He sent us on a wild goose chase."

Sighing heavily, he added with resignation, "I need to call Jack. He's just going to love this."

* * *

Jake parked his car on a side street of commercial businesses two blocks from the warehouse, pulled a gym bag out of the backseat and headed for the entrance of the karate studio across the street. In his jeans and Metallica t-shirt, anyone seeing him would assume he was just another karate kid wannabe heading to class.

He walked in the main entrance and headed for the dressing room area in the back with the confident air of one who belonged there. Nobody questioned him along the way or noticed when he slipped through a door leading downstairs.

Safely hidden in the dark recesses of the basement, Jake pulled black bdu pants and matching jacket, a black t-shirt and a black hat out of the gym bag. He changed quickly by the thin light of a miniature flashlight, checked that the knife in his boot was still accessible, then pulled the final items out of the gym bag.

The clip slid into the Beretta with a solid click that sounded too loud in the stillness of the basement. Jake stopped and listened for a few moments, but there was no indication that anyone was coming to investigate the sound. He spread the remaining 9 clips among the various pockets of his jacket and pants, added a scarf made of a medium weight material that could be used as a ligature if necessary and prepared to move out.

* * *

O'Neill was halfway to the warehouse when his phone rang. "O'Neill."

"We've been had, Jack. There's nobody here."

"Goddammit," O'Neill shouted in frustration, as he pulled over to the side of the road to try to figure out what to do next. The kid could be anywhere and, even if he put out an all points bulletin on his car, it would most likely be too late by the time they got to him.

He heard Teal'c's voice come over the line, sounding distant. "We must contact Colonel Carter. I believe she may have placed a tracking device on Jake's vehicle."

_Good going, Carter_, O'Neill thought to himself, then realized his dilemma. "No," he said. "You can't call her."

"Why?!" came Jackson's exasperated voice over the line.

It was O'Neill's turn to sigh heavily. "General Hammond showed up this morning with a colonel from special forces. It's not the NID who are after Jake; special forces are the ones trying to recruit him. Hammond was ordered not to interfere with their operation and to pass that order on down the line. Being the ornery sort, I chose not to obey that order, but I can't let Carter throw away her career tilting at my windmills."

He winced at the choice swear words that came from the other end of the line, having not realized Jackson was so prolific in that particular language. Finally the linguist said with disgust, "Why didn't you tell us, Jack?"

"Because I need your help. And since you and Teal'c are still technically civilians, you can't be court-martialed over this, so I figured if I kept you in the dark, you could just plead ignorance and nothing would happen to you. Both of you are too valuable for the SGC to lose anyway, but they'd have no choice but to make an example out of Carter. She's too highly placed and visible to be allowed to get away with that level of insubordination."

"Christ, Jack, sometimes I wonder who the enemy really is," Jackson said, the anger and frustration clear in his voice. "He's only 17 for crying out loud. Do they really believe he should be joining special forces already?!"

O'Neill thought about making the point that technically the kid's body was only 16, even though his assigned birthdate labeled him 17, but decided not to pursue it. Adding in the fact that the body had only been grown for the teenager a little more than a year ago, while his mind was that of a man approaching 50, made any discussion of the kid's true age nothing more than a massive headache generator.

Forcing his mind from that particular conundrum, O'Neill struggled to come up with a constructive suggestion but was interrupted by the sound of a loud buzzing coming through the phone.

"What the hell?" came Jackson's perplexed voice. "How can my phone be ringing when I'm already on it."

"It is not your phone, Daniel Jackson, it is mine," came Teal'c's distant voice. "It is Colonel Carter.

"Hello," he said as he activated the speakerphone feature, and Daniel moved his own phone closer so they could all hear each other.

"Teal'c, it's Sam. What the hell's going on. The General ordered me back to the base to handle some important matter for him, but when I got here, he was gone. Walter gave me a package he left for me, but even though there's a note on it that says 'I need you to take care of this today. I'll explain later,' the stuff in it is for something that could have waited. It doesn't need to be done right now."

"I cannot explain right now, Colonel Carter. We are under severe time constraints and have encountered a problem. Jake has . . . given us the slip." He gave Jackson a quick questioning glance to make sure he had gotten the idiom correct. "He may already be at the meeting site, but we are unable to locate him. Did you, in fact, place a tracking device on his vehicle?"

"Yes. I'll get you the location right away."

"Carter!" O'Neill barked.

"Yes, sir," she responded.

"We have orders from the highest levels not to interfere. You shouldn't be involved in this."

"What's that, sir? I can't hear you. Your cellphone battery must be giving out. Teal'c, I'll have that information for you in a minute."

A few seconds later she was back on the line. "The tracking signal is stationary on Bainbridge Street, just off Rte. 17. That's only a few blocks from the old Tyler Chemicals warehouse. I'll meet you there."

"Negative, Colonel," O'Neill snarled. "You're going to be in enough trouble already; we're not going to make it worse by having you caught on-site. You're to stay out of this from now on. That's a direct order. And don't try to pretend you didn't hear that," he added as he gunned the engine, making the tires squeal as he roared into a U-turn.

"Yes, sir," Carter's sulky voice came over the line. "But call me if you need backup," she added before hanging up.

"Teal'c, Daniel, from where I am, I'll be there in less than 10 minutes."

"It's probably going to take us 25 minutes or more even speeding, Jack," Daniel said with disgust. "He sent us totally in the opposite direction. And it's almost 4:00 now."

"Just get there as soon as you can," O'Neill barked before cutting the connection. He quickly dialed Jake's cellphone number and was annoyed, but not surprised, when it went directly to voicemail.

* * *

Samantha Carter put down the phone in her office and stared at it, trying to imagine what the teenager was thinking and why he would have pulled a stunt like this. The answer came in a flash of inspiration as a portion of the overhead conversation in the ladies room came back to her.

She sat down at her computer and typed in a query on the personnel database. The records for one of Siler's engineering techs popped up. Name, address, family members, contact information – there it was. Quickly, she picked up the phone and dialed a cellphone number. The phone rang and rang before finally going to voicemail. She left her name and number and requested a call back. Then she dialed the home number. It was answered on the second ring.

"Hello."

"Hello, could I speak to Lindsay McMenamin please?"

A man's voice responded, "Lindsay's at cheerleading practice this afternoon. This is her father. Can I take a message?"

"No, thanks. I'll try her cell."

Carter weighed her options carefully, then finally picked up the phone again and dialed Linda Schiler's private line.

"Linda Schiler speaking. How may I help you?"

"Linda, this is Samantha Carter. I have a favor I need to ask you, but it's a little out of the ordinary."

"What is it Colonel Carter? I'll be happy to help if I can."

"Call me Sam, please. I need to speak with Lindsay McMenamin right away. She's not answering her cellphone and I was told she's at cheerleading practice. Is there any way you could send someone out to the field to get her for me."

"I'm sorry, Sam, but I happen to know Lindsay's not here this afternoon. She got sick after lunch and the school nurse felt she should be sent home. Her father's assistant picked her up around 1:00. Perhaps he took her directly to the doctor and that's why she's not home yet."

Carter heart sank in her chest and she sighed heavily. "Probably. If she's sick then this will have to wait. Thanks for your help, Linda. I'm sorry to have bothered you."

"Is something wrong, Sam," Linda asked with concern. "Should I call her parents?"

"No, nothing's wrong, Linda. Don't worry about it," Carter said reassuringly. "I'll see you on Monday."

Carter hung up the phone with a heavy heart, then quickly dialed Teal'c again. "Teal'c, it's Sam."

"O'Neill does not want you involved in this matter, Colonel Carter. I must hang up."

"No!" Sam shouted. "I know why he did it."

"Why who did what?" came Daniel's distant voice.

"Jake. I know why he pulled the disappearing act on you. There's a girl."

"A girl? What girl? What are you talking about?" Daniel asked.

"There's a girl he's . . . friends with. She's one of the SGC kids at the high school -- the daughter of one the engineering techs. I just did some checking and she's missing."

"That's crazy," Daniel's disembodied voice shouted. "If it really were the NID behind this, I could understand that, but special forces shouldn't be pulling this kind of crap."

"What does special forces have to do with it?" Sam asked, but suddenly realized the answer, and all the pieces fell into place for her. "Never mind, I get it."

"We must advise O'Neill of these developments immediately," Teal'c said.

"You better do it, Teal'c," Carter said, "I'm afraid he won't answer the phone if he sees my number on the caller ID."

"Agreed."

* * *

Jack O'Neill turned the corner onto Bainbridge and saw Jake's car parked on the left side of the street. He pulled his SUV into an empty spot halfway down the block and activated the GPS mapping system on his dash. Quickly reviewing the configuration of streets leading to the abandoned chemical plant, he calculated the route the teenager would have taken.

He'd changed into black bdu's and a black t-shirt before leaving the base, but he grabbed the loose-fitting black leather jacket from the seat beside him, quickly checking that the 9mm and zat were still concealed in its inner pockets, and hoping it would keep him from standing out on the now busy street.

He had just moved to open the car door when his cellphone rang. "O'Neill," he barked roughly, the tension clear in his voice.

"O'Neill, it is Teal'c. Colonel Carter just called."

"Dammit, I said she's not to get involved in this Teal'c."

"I am aware of that, O'Neill, but Colonel Carter relayed some information that may assist you."

"Okay then, spill it."

"One of the SGC children that were being watched at the high school also appears to be missing. Colonel Carter says she is a friend of Jake's."

"A friend? How close a friend?" O'Neill asked suspiciously.

"She did not say," Teal'c responded evenly.

"Well, that explains a whole lot at least. Thanks T," O'Neill added before cutting the connection. Switching his phone to vibrate mode, he got out of the truck and set off in search of his wayward younger self.

* * *

Carter was sitting at her desk trying to decide whether she should risk O'Neill's anger and head for the meet site against his orders, when the phone on her desk rang. "Carter."

"Colonel Carter, this is General Hammond."

"General, sir. This is a surprise. What can I do for you?"

"You can tell me where General O'Neill is."

"I believe he's in his car, sir. Have you tried his cellphone?"

"He's not answering. Colonel, how much do you know about the situation with Jake?"

Carter paused for a moment considering how much she should say. "General O'Neill ordered me back to the base this afternoon with no explanation other than there being another pressing assignment he needed me to handle for him while he finished up the business with Jake. I talked to Teal'c a little while ago and he told me they were supposed to follow Jake to a meet this afternoon, but Jake ditched them and took off alone."

"I see," Hammond said heavily.

"I don't understand, sir."

"I have a very angry special forces colonel on the other line who was expecting Jake for a meet at 3:30, but the boy never showed. He seems to think Jack went against direct orders not to interfere and is responsible for the boy's failure to appear."

"He couldn't be, sir," Carter said, perplexed. "I . . . um, I mean, Teal'c told me he spoke to the General right before I called and he was as surprised as they were that Jake ditched them."

"Very well," Hammond replied warily, sensing she wasn't telling him the complete truth, "but have Jack call me as soon as you hear from him again."

"Yes, sir. Um, sir?"

"Yes, Colonel?"

"This may be totally unrelated, but would your special forces colonel have any idea why the daughter of one of our base personnel, who happens to be a friend of Jake's, also seems to be missing?"

"What?!!" Hammond exploded.

The General's voice disappeared from the line and Carter waited impatiently for him to return, feeling the need to do something more than just sit and wait. Finally Hammond returned to the line, sounding concerned, "Colonel, Colonel Sanford says he knows nothing about your missing girl and I believe him. He seems very surprised and upset by the news, in fact."

"I'm sorry, General, but could you ask him one more thing."

"What is it, Colonel."

"Ask him how many people he had stationed at the school."

Hammond's voice disappeared from the line again, but he came back on a few moments later. "He says four - one woman in the library, one man on the construction crew, a janitor and a groundskeeper."

"Damn. That's what I was afraid of. I'm sorry, sir, but I really need to go," she added apologetically before hanging up the phone, grabbing her purse and a zat that she dropped into it, then heading for the door.

As Carter was striding down the corridor toward the elevator, she saw Tech. Sgt. Walter Davis walking toward her. "Sergeant," she snapped.

Startled by the urgency in her voice, Davis said, "Yes, Colonel?"

"Did those background reports ever come in on the employees at the school, specifically the five the General had flagged for special runs?"

"Yes, ma'am. They came in right after the General left."

"I need to see them right away." When Davis opened his mouth to protest that they were for General O'Neill's eyes only, she added, "The General, Daniel and Teal'c may be in serious trouble, Walter. I need to get that information to them right away."

"Yes, ma'am," he responded crisply. "Follow me and I'll get them for you."

* * *

O'Neill made his way carefully through the small woodsy area that separated the abandoned factory from the neighborhood beyond. Listening carefully, he heard only the sounds of birds chirping and small animals scurrying about. Turning to his left, he realized there were no such sounds coming from immediately ahead in that direction and he carefully picked his way through the trees, moving the zat, which was already locked into firing position, from side to side in front of him, trying to cover as much of the exposed area as he could.

He saw a dark pile of what looked like rags half hidden under a blanket of fallen leaves. Moving carefully, all the while searching for signs of a trap, he advanced on the pile. A smile slid across his face as he got close enough to see what the dark mound really was. He checked for the unconscious man's pulse and was relieved to find one. Brushing some of the leaves away, he saw with satisfaction that, not only had Jake taken the man out, but he'd tied the guy up with his own restraints as well.

Already knowing he'd find nothing, O'Neill quickly patted the man down for weapons. As he'd expected, Jake had taken everything. O'Neill's forehead creased into a frown as he wondered just exactly what 'everything' entailed and how much of it the teenager intended to use. There was no walkie talkie or other communication device in evidence, so he assumed the kid had gotten that too.

As he headed for the far end of the wooded area that would open onto the grounds of the abandoned complex, his cellphone began to vibrate. "Damn," he muttered, dropping back behind a tree and pulling out the phone. "Goddammit," he muttered again when he saw Carter's number on the caller ID. He wavered for a moment about not answering it, then decided she wouldn't disobey his direct order if it weren't important.

"What is it, Carter?" he snapped into the phone. "This isn't a very good time."

"I'm sorry, sir, but I just got off the phone with General Hammond. Colonel Sanford was very upset that Jake didn't show up for their 3:30 meeting."

"What?!" O'Neill asked, the import of the news leaving him speechless.

"That's right, sir. And that's not all. Sanford said he only had four people at the school, not five. The deep background checks came back and it looks like our software tech is not who he says he is. I can't get an identity lock, but I think we both have a good guess who he really works for."

"Christ, almighty," O'Neill said with disgust. "They used special forces' own game against them, letting them set up this whole thing. Then they planned to sneak in at the eleventh hour and pluck the kid right out from under their noses."

"That's the way it looks to me, sir. I've got Walter checking on the status of the other twelve SGC kids at the high school to make sure no one else is missing and then he's going to go through the rest of the background reports to see if anyone else looks fishy."

"I have a feeling no one else is going to be missing, Carter, but I won't be surprised if we find another NID plant."

"My money's on the school nurse, sir," Carter responded. "According to Linda, the girl's father sent his assistant to pick her up when she got sick. The nurse was the one who supposedly talked to the father and handled all the arrangements. It's the only way they could have gotten her out without raising any red flags."

"You're probably right, but we've got more important things to worry about right now. Even though somebody rescheduled Jake's meeting with Sanford without letting Sanford know, Jake's definitely on his way there now. I found a guy knocked out and tied up in a nice neat package – and he's definitely special forces not NID."

"Jake took out a special forces operative all by himself?" Carter asked incredulously.

"Goes to prove that old adage about being able to do anything with the proper motivation, doesn't it," O'Neill responded grimly. "Where are you, Carter."

"I'm on my way, sir."

"Carter!"

"Don't Carter me, sir. It's a whole new ballgame if the rogue NID faction is really involved. Besides, Sanford has already admitted to General Hammond that this isn't part of his op, so we're free and clear. In fact, we're mopping up his mess, so he should be grateful."

"What's your ETA?"

"15-20 minutes."

"Teal'c and Daniel are about the same. I don't think it'll be soon enough," O'Neill said tensely. "Jake's sneaking in the back instead of going directly in the front, so it'll take him a little more time to make his way in than if he'd just walked in the front door. But if things start to escalate before you get here, I'll have to go in without you."

"Be careful, sir. I'll get there as soon as I can," she promised.

O'Neill turned off the cellphone and slid it back into his pocket as he slowly advanced toward the treeline leading to the warehouse.

* * *

Like a silent shadow, Jake slid up behind the tall, bulky man dressed all in black and armed with a P-90 assault rifle who was guarding the back of the warehouse. The man seemed relaxed and unsuspecting, but Jake knew that could just as easily be an act to throw him off his guard. He waited until he was just a few steps behind the man to pull out the zat he had lifted from one of the three guards he had already taken out.

The man pivoted suddenly and brought his leg up in a kick aimed uncannily at Jake's zat arm. Jake pulled his arm down and away from the kick as he fired, hitting the big man in the midsection. The outstretched foot spasmed along with the rest of the man's body and whizzed harmlessly by Jake's arm with less than an inch to spare.

Jake quickly collected all the man's weaponry and added what he could to his growing arsenal. Since he couldn't carry the P-90, he pulled the clip and replaced it with one he had filled with medium sized pebbles instead of bullets. If anyone attempted to fire the weapon, the pebbles would cause it to either jam or simply not work at all. Jamming would be better, but he would take what he could get. Searching quickly, he found the man's restraints and quickly bound his arms and legs with them, then finished off his handiwork with a gag made from a headscarf pulled from the man's own pocket.

There was no place to hide the body completely out of sight, so he dragged it as close to the building as he could manage and quickly gathered some fallen leaves to cover it with. He worked in total silence, fully in his 'zone', the mental place where every sight and sound was quickly and efficiently registered and catalogued to determine whether it signaled impending danger.

Although he was sorry about the necessity of lying to Jack and the others, he was almost relieved to not have backup, to not have to worry about anybody else. His body hummed with pent up energy and tension that wanted to explode in violence against these bastards who had threatened Lindsay and the others. But he refused to let that explosion happen, knowing it could doom Lindsay if he couldn't get to her before his unseen enemy decided to strike back for the damage Jake had already caused.

Finally finished with his little chore, Jake pressed himself against the side of the old warehouse trying to hear any sounds from inside, but the walls were solid and no sound made its way through. Instead of heading directly to the back door, he slipped down the side of the building to the corner and used a small mirror to peek around its edge. There was one man, dressed and armed similarly to the man he'd just taken out, standing halfway down the side, looking bored. Toward the front of the building he noticed another man step out toward the side to check on the status of the guard at the side, then return to the front of the building.

Jake quickly slipped to the other end of the building and saw a similar scene unfold on that side. His heart raced as he wondered if anyone would be coming soon to check on the guard he had just taken down. A smile slowly spread across his face as an idea popped into his head.

* * *

The man in black strolled down the left side of the building toward the back with his rifle at the ready. He stopped just before stepping into the open and carefully leaned forward to check on the man guarding the rear. Relief washed over him as he saw the man standing there with his back to him, his rifle at the ready.

"Hey, Stan. You got any smokes? I'm all out," the man in black said, relaxing his stance. "I hope the Colonel decides to pack it in soon. It's obvious this is a waste of time and nobody's going to show."

"Don't you know smoking is bad for your health?" Jake quipped, as he quickly turned and fired the zat at the startled man, who had no chance to make a sound before he slid to the ground unconscious. Jake sensed rather than saw the motion to his right and quickly dropped and rolled, causing the zat bolt to whiz harmlessly past his ear. His own aim was instinctive and true, taking down his sixth man with only one shot.

He felt time ticking inexorably away and hesitated for a moment about taking extra time to tie the two men up. _Don't get careless now, O'Neill. Not when you're this close_, his inner voice cautioned him. Grudgingly obeying it, he made short work of the latest additions to his growing collection of bound and gagged bad guys. Quickly checking the sides of the building again and seeing no one, even though he knew there was still one guy unaccounted for out front, he carefully made his way to the back door.

* * *


	7. JakeCh7

_**Chapter 7**_

Jake made his way down the hall slowly, feeling a deep sense of unease at how easy it had all become since he'd made it into the building. The large central space had been completely empty, but corridors branched off from both sides leading to a series of offices, meeting rooms and storage areas that lined the outer walls of the cavernous building. The right corridor had conveniently been filled with construction debris so his only choice had been to go left. Jake felt like a rat being shuttled through a maze, each twist and turn predetermined by the person running the test. _Lucky for me I don't believe in predetermination,_ Jake thought as he moved carefully down the hall, _I believe in making my own luck_.

He went to take another step and felt a sudden tension against his shin. He hadn't heard the telltale click of activation, but still he stopped, not stepping back immediately, but instead leaning over to see if the tripwire had been pulled far enough to activate or if it was still safe to move his leg back without the device going off. He took a relieved breath when his eyes followed the wire back to its source and saw the lever it was attached to was just short of the activation mark. The charge it was connected to wasn't powerful enough to kill, but it would wound and could possibly render him unconscious. _So we really are playing hardball, aren't we_, he thought as he carefully slid his foot backward and clear of the wire.

The corridor had low level illumination from the occasional glass paned office door that allowed some of the afternoon sun from the outer office windows to filter through. But most of it was steeped in shadow, making traps like the one he had just barely avoided difficult to detect. Dropping to his knees, Jake pulled out a small flashlight and focused its beam along the floor hoping to catch the glint of light off the wire of any additional trips that were close by. Spotting a glint three feet further down the corridor and another at close to six, he swore quietly under his breath.

He turned the problem over in his mind and a smile spread across his face when suddenly the answer was there. _Just like old times_, he mused.

* * *

Jack O'Neill shook his head in amazement when he found the three bodies spread out near the back entrance to the warehouse. He caught the glint of metal out of the corner of his eye and found the stash of P-90s hidden carelessly under a pile of leaves. He felt a stab of gratitude for just a moment then stopped, suspicious of his good luck, and quickly pulled the clip from the first gun. Torn between admiration for the kid's ingenuity when he saw the pebbles and annoyance that he wouldn't be able to use the weapon, O'Neill put it back where he'd found it. Knowing it was useless, he still checked the other two guns and found them in the same condition.

Sighing heavily, he started toward the back door when suddenly there was a loud explosion from inside. Throwing caution to the wind, he raced through the door, his heart pumping with fear at what he might find inside.

* * *

"Tsk, tsk," the young man who'd been posing as a computer technician at the school said from his perch seated cross-legged on top of a dilapidated desk to Colonel Sanford, who was bound and gagged at his feet, his dark eyes sending bolts of pure fury at the harmless looking young man as he struggled fruitlessly with his bonds. "And he was doing so well too. What a pity. I was really hoping he'd make it this far at least."

"Well, since you've gone to so much trouble on my behalf, I wouldn't want to disappoint you," Jake said from the doorway, his voice dripping sarcasm, as he aimed the zat at the center of the man's chest.

The young man clapped and said delightedly, "Marvelous, simply marvelous. You are all we expected and more. Even better than the original if you don't mind my saying so."

Jake's eyes had done a quick sweep of the room but he couldn't see Lindsay anywhere, only the man bound and gagged at the young man's feet. He frowned when it registered that the young man held no weapons that he could see, but instead had a goa'uld control device wrapped around his hand and wrist.

"Xerox is making better and better copies these days," Jake quipped coolly. "Where's Lindsay?"

The young man laughed lightly. "So direct and to the point. Give me my woman back or I'll pound you. The old caveman instinct at work. I knew the minute I saw her with you that she was the perfect bait for this particular trap, and I wouldn't need any of the others. I'm actually very glad of that. The logistics of trying to get them all here without anyone realizing there was a problem were proving very difficult."

Jake held the zat out and pressed his finger against the firing mechanism. "Gee, I'm so sorry to have put you to so much trouble," he said mockingly. "Last chance. Where's Lindsay."

"Now, now, Jack. Don't be so petulant. You don't really believe I'm foolish enough to be here totally alone without any backup do you? And how do you know Lindsay's even here? She might be up on the ship. And if she's on the ship and I don't report in when I'm supposed to, well, one of my colleagues might get upset about that and decide that her disappearing permanently wouldn't be such a big deal after all. Young girls her age run away or simply disappear all the time. She'll just end up another unfortunate statistic."

"I wouldn't be so sure of my backup if I were you," Jake said coldly, putting the hand not holding the zat in his pocket and pulling out six sets of dogtags that he tossed on the ground in between them.

The man simply laughed again, but Jake saw the bound man's eyes widen in shock when he saw the tangle of chains and metal glittering on the floor.

"You think those incompetents were mine?" the young man said with amusement. "How insulting! No my dear boy, they belong to our good friend Colonel Sanford here, who's from special forces. Someone there came up with the bright idea that they should recruit you. You really can't blame them; I mean, what covert group wouldn't want its very own Jack O'Neill. And, since you are technically already one of their alums, I guess they felt they deserved first dibs on you.

"But as we'd already had the same idea, we decided to ride the good Colonel's coattails and let him lay all the ground work, then just sweep in at the end and scoop you up. We figured once you saw their level of incompetence for yourself, you'd decide to come to work for the better team. We have a great deal more to offer you than the U.S. government will ever be willing to provide."

"What makes you think I'd ever agree to work with you," Jake said contemptuously. "I can't stand the NID or anything it stands for."

"Now, now, Jack. Don't be that way."

"My name is not Jack, it's Jake," he exploded. "J-A-K-E. It's not that hard."

The man's smile faded. "We both know exactly who you are, young man, so don't get an attitude with me. There's no need for you to hide your true identity, your true self, from me or anyone else in my organization, Jack. It must have been hell for you the last year -- having to submerge that delightfully eccentric Jack O'Neill personality and try to be someone else entirely just to fit in -- and at high school of all places. What a total waste of your time and talents."

He unfolded his legs and stretched them easily before hopping down from the desk as he continued speaking. "Believe it or not I can sympathize. I was once in deep cover for over two years. It tears you apart inside to not be able to see your family or friends, or even have them know where you are or that you're even alive. And I imagine it must be worse for you to have to watch that crotchety old has-been strut around in his dress uniform with the Brigadier General insignia and all the medals you earned on his chest."

Jake remained quiet but alert as the man moved closer, unconsciously tensing the hand holding the zat as he continued staring stonily at him, not responding to the taunt.

The man stopped a few feet from Jake, returning the teen's stare directly, then shook his head sadly. "It's pathetic really. The great and mighty Jack O'Neill reduced to pushing papers behind a desk while those younger, stronger and smarter go after the bad guys. It doesn't have to be that way, Jack. You're one of those younger, stronger and smarter guys now. You should be out there fighting the good fight. Carrying the O'Neill banner into the fray. Doing what needs to be done to save this country, this world from those alien parasites."

"You are so full of shit I'm surprised you don't simply explode," Jake snarled. "You don't know anything about Jack and you don't know anything about me. If you did, you'd know he's a better man than any of you will ever be, and that I'd rather be dead than have anything to do with the likes of you. You and your people aren't heroes. It's bad enough you're vultures who feed on the vulnerabilities of other cultures to steal their technology, but to top it off you're a bunch of pathetic losers who can only get your own way by kidnapping helpless teenagers. You're just as bad as the goa'uld."

The man's hand snaked out in violent fury and his closed fist smashed brutally into Jake's face. The teenager had no time to dodge and he wasn't ready to call the man's bluff about Lindsay by shooting him, so he had no choice but to take the full force of the blow. The guy was stronger than he looked and the power of the punch sent him sprawling, a web of pain radiating through the side of his face. Trying to assess the damage through the spots dancing in front of his eyes, Jake cautiously moved his jaw and was relieved when the pain didn't get worse. He thought his cheekbone might be cracked or broken, but the jaw seemed fine.

"Temper, temper," Jake taunted as he pulled himself to his feet. He brushed a hand against his face where he'd been hit and instantly regretted it when a fresh wave of pain radiated out from the definitely fractured cheekbone.

"You haven't seen anything yet, boy," the man sneered. "While it certainly would have been easier if you'd been agreeable to joining us as an equal in our battle, we still have some use for you as a prisoner. Our scientists have been running some tests and have made some very interesting discoveries in the last few months. They are pretty much guaranteeing that the third generation Jack O'Neill clone will be much more receptive to working with us. And," he added gleefully, "once they find Colonel Sanford here with a bullet in his head from your gun and hear the testimony of all his men that you took down today, the only thing your friends in the U.S. government are going to want you for is a firing squad."

Jake's eyes widened in surprise for a moment at the audacity of the plan. He recovered quickly and, the pain in his face forgotten, said with derision, "Go ahead. You're dumber than you look if you think you're ever going to lure any O'Neill to the dark side, Palpatine. You want to set yourself up a jedi factory, go ahead. We'll run out of J names eventually, but, hey, that's our problem right. Our little O'Neill army will be too busy stomping on your stupid NID asses to worry about it."

The man snarled at him and started to throw another punch when there was a loud explosion from the hallway. Startled, he stopped mid swing and turned toward the door; Jake took advantage of that moment of distraction to spring on him, grabbing his wrist to keep him from activating the transport device that would beam him back to the ship or any other goodies that might be tied into the goa'uld device.

The man struggled desperately, trying to pull himself free until Jake kneed him hard in the groin causing him to collapse slowly to the ground, groaning loudly. Jake kept hold of his wrist and quickly peeled the goa'uld device off it, trying to remember how to activate the thing.

He jumped, startled, when a voice came from the doorway. "You need help with that, kid?"

A smile spread across Jake's face when he saw Jack O'Neill framed in the doorway, a P-90 cradled in his arms. "You might not want to use that if it's one of the ones from out back," Jake said.

O'Neill returned the smile. "Oh, I saw your enhancements to those and decided I needed one of my own. So I got this one from the guy out front."

"Cool," Jake responded. "We need to find Lindsay. I think she's up on their ship."

"You better tie him up and check him for weapons or communication devices. We don't need him alerting the others to the new world order down here, especially if we have to go up there."

"I was getting there," Jake said. "I've done most of the hard work already, so I thought maybe you'd want a turn."

"You've got things pretty well in hand, here, kid. I don't want to get in the way."

A muffled sound from the other side of the room drew both of their attention to Sanford, who was still struggling to free himself. Jake just glared at him in disgust then went to work patting down his prisoner and trussing him up.

With a mirroring look of disgust, O'Neill stepped over to Sanford, pulled out his knife and cut the gag from the man's mouth. Sanford started to speak, but before he could get anything out, O'Neill cut him off, snapping, "Where's the girl."

Sanford sucked in a deep breath and sputtered, "I don't know anything about any girl, O'Neill. I told your Colonel Carter that. Right after I hung up with her and General Hammond this guy just appeared out of nowhere and zatted me. When I woke up he had me all tied up and gagged."

"Has anyone else been in or out of here since then?"

"No," Sanford replied. As O'Neill started to turn away, Sanford shouted after him, "Where are you going, O'Neill. Cut me loose. I need to check on my men. He didn't kill any of them did he?" he asked anxiously, looking at Jake with a mixture of awe, distrust and fear.

"Your men are fine, Sanford," O'Neill responded impatiently. "We don't go around killing people for no good reason, although come to think of it, your incompetence and utter stupidity in pulling off this entire operation is a good enough reason for me right now."

O'Neill pulled out his cellphone and hit the on button. Before he could start dialing, the phone rang. He hit the switch and heard Daniel's frantic voice, "Jack, where are you. We heard an explosion just as we drove up. Are you and Jake okay?"

"We're fine. Is Carter with you?"

"Yes."

"Okay, I need you all to come inside and start searching the offices and storerooms along the corridor. We still don't have the girl and I need to know if she's here before we head up to their ship. And Daniel," he added, "tell Carter to take lead. There were some booby traps set up. I think I got them all, but she knows what to look for. Jake will be starting down this end so keep an eye out for him."

"O-kay," Daniel breathed out nervously, "did you hear that," his voice came more distantly through the phone.

"We're on it, sir." Came Carter's disembodied voice. "Let's go."

Jake had finished with his prisoner as O'Neill was talking on the phone and he signaled to O'Neill that he was going to begin the search. O'Neill nodded acknowledgment, then held up a hand to stop him. "Hold on a minute, Carter."

Covering the phone with one hand, O'Neill made a motioning gesture to Jake with the other, "Give it to me."

"What?" Jake asked innocently.

"You know what," O'Neill said with annoyance. "You've gone off on your own enough for one day. You're not going up to that ship without backup. Now give it to me before I have to come over there and take it from you."

"As if," Jake snorted, but reluctantly reached into his pocket and held the goa'uld controller out to O'Neill, who took it from him with a withering gaze and dropped it in his own pocket. "Be careful, kid. Oh, and turn your cellphone back on so we can reach you if someone else finds her."

Jake nodded, then reached into his pocket and pulled out two walkie talkies and tossed one to O'Neill. "If the cell doesn't work, use this," then headed out the door.

O'Neill shook his head in exasperation and returned to his conversation, "One more thing, Carter. I'm sending Colonel Sanford out to release his men so they can assist you. No matter how tempting it is, don't shoot him."

"Yes, sir," Carter responded, not bothering to try to hide her amusement.

Reluctantly, O'Neill pulled his knife out again and quickly freed Sanford from his bonds. "You heard what I said, Sanford. I want you to gather your men and help us search for that girl. If she's not found, I intend to put you alone in a room with her parents after explaining to them that it's your fault she's missing in the first place."

Sanford scowled at him but didn't reply as he hurried for the door.

O'Neill stayed in the room, glaring at their tightly bound but defiant prisoner who only scowled darkly back at him in return, unwilling to risk leaving the man alone to possibly disappear if he went to join the search.

* * *

Jake moved from room to room stealthily, the zat held at the ready. His search of each area was quick and thorough, but after making it through ten rooms with no sign of Lindsay, he was ready to bolt back to the room where Jack was waiting and force him to activate the transporter to send them up to the ship.

He almost jumped out of his skin when his cellphone rang and he pulled it out clumsily, his hands suddenly shaky. "This is Jake."

Carter's voice came over the line, "We found her, Jake. She's unconscious but alive. There's no sign of any kind of injury so we think they may have just drugged her to keep her out of the way."

Jake sank down to his knees, the relief washing over him leaving him momentarily unable to move. "Where are you?"

"The right corridor, about halfway down on the right side."

"I'll be right there," Jake said and snapped the phone closed, holding it pressed tightly in one hand as he braced his elbows on his knees and pressed his balled fists against his forehead while rocking on the balls of his feet as he tried to pull himself together. The need to see that Lindsay was okay overrode everything else, and he finally pulled himself to his feet and raced down the hall to find her.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, having seen that Lindsay was safe and having been assured that Daniel and Teal'c planned to stay with her, Jake was back in the room where he had left his prisoner, preparing to transport up to the ship with O'Neill.

"The transport device is designed for only one person but if you're both touching it when it's activated" Carter said, "it's possible it will take you both. I'm hoping that since your DNA is identical it will read you as one entity."

"Just as long as it doesn't get confused and scramble all that DNA on the way up," O'Neill said carelessly, earning an uneasy glare from Jake.

"The _Prometheus_ has been put on alert and is scanning for the ship," Carter continued, "but the ship's cloaking shields appear to be operational, so we're not having much luck yet."

Their prisoner glared at them from the floor, still tightly trussed up and maintaining his silence. Despite his own anger, O'Neill had had to restrain Jake, and himself, in order to keep their questioning from drifting too close to the line of torture. _Sometimes it's a pain in the ass being the good guys_, he thought peevishly.

"You ready," he asked Jake, who nodded.

O'Neill thumbed the transport control, but nothing happened. Concerned, he thumbed it again.

"What's wrong?" Jake asked.

"I don't know," O'Neill replied tensely.

"Maybe just one of you should try," Carter said hesitantly.

Jake glared at Jack for a moment but finally sighed heavily and stepped back, clearly frustrated at not being able to be in on the kill.

Jack's eyes met Jake's for a moment and transmitted the silent message, _Don't worry, I'll get them for this_.

Jake nodded and Jack thumbed the control again. Still nothing. Jack's eyes went to their prisoner, who was still sitting on the floor, but his defiant glare had turned to the look of a trapped animal.

"So, mister big shot, your playmates have deserted you, have they?" Jack taunted. "Just turned tail and ran, like the cowards they are, leaving you behind to face the music alone. That sorta changes the playing field doesn't it. You'd better do some serious thinking about how you're going to save your own ass now."

The man just stared back at him, but O'Neill could almost see the wheels turning in his head.

O'Neill turned his attention to Jake. "I'm sorry, kid."

"It's okay. It's not your fault," Jake muttered. "I want to go check on Lindsay again anyway."

"We've sent a message for her parents to meet us at the base. The cover story is that some guy with a crush tried to abduct her, but you noticed she was missing and called in the cavalry. That's what we tell her, her family and anyone else that asks. Got it?"

"No," Jake said firmly. "You're not going to do that to her. It's not fair to make her think what happened was somehow her fault. We'll stick as close to the truth as we can. The cover story is that somebody tried to abduct your cousin in order to blackmail you and took her to use as bait because they knew she was a friend of his."

O'Neill stared at him for a moment, considering. "That's a really bad plan, kid. I don't want it getting out that you're my cousin. It'll paint a target on you for anybody else who might want to try something like this. And I really, really don't want anyone looking too closely into your background. They might start asking questions we'll have a hard time answering."

"Tough luck if they do," Jake said with finality. "Come up with something better if you can, but I'm not letting you use Lindsay as a diversionary tactic. She's been through enough already because of me. If you try and float that lame ass story, I'm not going to back it up.

"Besides why do you even need to have a cover story? It's not like any of this is going to be on the news or in the newspapers. You've got this place buttoned up like Fort Knox. The only people who are going to know anything happened here are us, Sanford and his guys, Lindsay and her parents and our prisoner. And none of them have any reason to talk about it."

O'Neill tried to stare Jake down, but got only the same stubborn stare mirrored back at him. Finally, he gave a heavy sigh and capitulated, "Okay, you win. We'll do it your way."

The teen nodded as if there had never been any doubt.

"You did good today, Jake," O'Neill added, his attitude softening a little. "She might not be alive if you hadn't kept your head."

"Yeah, well, she never would have been in danger in the first place if she hadn't tried to be my friend," Jake responded wearily as he ran his hand through his hair, before turning and stalking out of the room.

O'Neill watched him go, sympathy playing briefly across his features, before he turned back to the difficult job of cleaning up Sanford's mess. As he opened his mouth to start issuing orders, his cellphone rang again. Cursing under his breath, he pulled it out and, without looking at the caller i.d., hit the switch and snarled, "O'Neill."

"Jack? Is that you? This is Henry Hayes."

O'Neill's eyes closed briefly as he did a silent _d'oh_ in his head. "Yes, Mr. President, it's me. Sorry, it's been a rough day."

"It usually is for you, isn't it Jack," Hayes said sympathetically. "Listen, I got your fax. What the hell is going on? This picture you sent me is of a kid. I was told by my advisors that this person was a clone of you, that's the only reason I accepted their recommendation to allow special forces to recruit him. I just assumed he was an adult."

"It's difficult to explain, Mr. President," O'Neill said wearily, rubbing a hand across his forehead and running it down the side of his face. "If you don't mind, sir, General Hammond can explain it all to you. Right now we're in the middle of mopping up a major mess. The rogue NID cell found out about the operation at the school and attempted an end run around special forces to get to the boy. And they kidnapped the daughter of one of our SGC base personnel to bait their trap."

"My God! Is anyone hurt? Were there any casualties?" Hayes asked, alarmed.

"No. No lives lost. Jake's fine, we have the girl back and she'll be fine, and we have ourselves an NID prisoner. We were very close to also getting on their ship again, but they got away from us before we could spring that trap."

"It sounds like we owe you another debt of gratitude, Jack."

"Does that mean I'm not going to be kicked out on my ass for disobeying a direct order not to interfere with the special forces operation?" O'Neill asked point blank.

Hayes was speechless for a moment. "Jack, I'm sorry if I ever gave you the impression something like that was a possibility. It may not seem like it, but I genuinely appreciate all your hard work – and your brass balls. If anybody tries to give you any flack for this, I'll be there to back you up."

"Thank you, sir. I appreciate that."

"I need to get back to my summit. I'll give you or Hammond a call later to get that explanation. I'll bet it's a doozy."

"Yes, sir," O'Neill said, then snapped the phone closed and simply stared at it a moment. _Oh well, so much for all that extra fishing time_, he thought wistfully as he began barking orders.

* * *


	8. JakeCh8

_**Chapter 8**_

Jack O'Neill cast his line into the water and sat back in his camp chair. His eyes slid closed behind his sunglasses as he leaned his head back and stretched his legs out in front of him, enjoying the feel of the warm sun beating down on him. Fishing was the ultimate relaxation. It always amazed him that Carter, Daniel and Teal'c couldn't seem to understand that it was best when the fish weren't biting, because then there was no reason to move at all.

At the sound of another line plopping into the water, O'Neill opened one eye and peeked to his left. Jake was stretched out in his own chair, unconsciously mirroring O'Neill's lounging posture. As he watched, the teen pulled his line out of the water again and shifted in his seat, as though trying to find a more comfortable position.

"Something wrong?" O'Neill asked casually.

"No," Jake said, too quickly.

"Okay." O'Neill said. Waiting a few seconds, he asked, "How's Lindsay?"

Jake shot him an irritated glare that O'Neill couldn't really see behind the boy's sunglasses, but could deduce from the scowl on the rest of his face. "I thought we were observing fishing silence here."

O'Neill shrugged, "Fishing silence doesn't do much good when one of the fishermen is so tense, he keeps shifting around making noise."

Jake's scowl deepened, "Sorry."

"Why don't you just get it over with and tell me what's wrong, then you don't have to be sorry and we can both get back to enjoying our fishing silence."

Jake sat quietly for a few moments, pondering.

Jack waited silently, giving his younger self time to work through the implications of opening up to him. _We have the strangest damn life_, he thought as he waited. _Who else on the planet would have to think about whether he should confide in himself and mean it literally._

"You won't tell anybody?" Jake finally asked suspiciously. "Nothing I say here is going into any reports or getting passed along to the shrink squad?"

"Yeah, right. Like I'd really want that. Don't forget letting them poke around in your head puts them in mine too," O'Neill responded blithely. "So just think of this as talking to yourself."

Jake considered that a moment. "Okay," he finally said with reluctance. He was silent a few more moments before saying, "Lindsay keeps calling me and trying to talk to me at school. She keeps thanking me for saving her. I mean, I keep telling her she never would have been snatched in the first place if it weren't for me, but she still thanks me for saving her. What's with that?"

"Maybe she actually likes you and is grateful you cared enough to make sure she was safe," O'Neill said. "It is possible you got the old O'Neill magic along with everything else."

"I'm so glad my life is the source of such amusement for you," Jake responded in a withering tone.

"My own life is such a huge source of amusement to me, why shouldn't everybody else's be too," O'Neill replied easily. "Besides," he added in a more serious tone. "I wasn't trying to be funny. Maybe she really does like you."

"Well, she shouldn't."

"Why not? Because it's complicated? It's only as complicated as you make it, Jake."

"Okay, if it's so easy, why don't you ask her out?"

O'Neill laughed, "Because she's a little young for me. I'd either get arrested for propositioning a minor or killed by her father for being a pervert."

"And why should any of that be different for me?" Jake asked pensively. "Just because my body is 16? I remember having sex for the first time over 30 years ago and lots of times after that. I remember being married to Sarah and making love with her. I remember being a prisoner of war and praying every night for just one last chance to see her again. I remember everything that you remember up until a little over a year ago. Doesn't that make me too old for Lindsay too, no matter what my body looks like. And doesn't it make me some kind of pervert for even thinking about wanting to be with her?

"And how can I possibly have a relationship with her if every single thing I tell her is a lie? I can't even tell her my real name, for crying out loud! And how could I ever let her get into a relationship with me without knowing the truth. Could you imagine how she'd react if she ever found out? Don't you think she'd be totally freaked to find out she was dating a guy who was really almost 50? Especially if she ever found out that guy is, well, you? How creepy is that?"

"Hey! Carter said one of the girls in the bathroom thought I was hot," O'Neill said defensively. He still couldn't see the teen's eyes behind his sunglasses, but he could tell by the expression on the rest of his face that his eyes were rolling furiously behind the lenses. He grinned to himself but remained quiet for a few minutes, pondering the boy's questions.

"I can understand outright lying or not telling the whole truth being an issue. I'm sure you remember that Sarah and I had some pretty serious arguments about that – and that was just my sudden mysterious disappearances on ops, nothing like the kind of stuff you're dealing with. I can't tell you what to do about Lindsay, Jake. Honestly, I don't know what you should do about that.

"Hell, it's kinda funny to admit now, but I've been a little jealous that one of the perks of starting over as a teenager is that you'll have another 30 or 40 years to fly. You'll get to be one of the first pilots behind the stick of the X304 or one of its successors, while I'm stuck rotting behind some desk. My knees are already bad and will probably get worse in the next couple years from all the times they've been banged around. My eyes aren't as sharp as they used to be. I keep thinking it wouldn't be so bad to have a young, strong body again. I guess I never really thought about what the rest of it would be like. Maybe I should reconsider Harlan's offer and get myself one of those nice robot bodies, huh."

"You were jealous of me?" Jake asked incredulously. "Hell, all I've wanted for the last year was to have my old life and my old body back."

"Be grateful for small favors. I can tell you without a doubt that we're going through a pretty crappy chapter in the Jack O'Neill story."

"Yeah, well, don't expect me to throw you a pity party. At least you have people you can bitch to when things suck. When I'm having a bad day, who can I tell? It's not like I can go have a beer with the guys on the track team and tell them about the nightmare I had about being pinned down in a firefight or having a goa'uld inside my body."

"Yeah, that's a tough one," O'Neill said. "You've got me there, too. I guess my life isn't as rotten as I thought it was."

"Well I'm so glad I could help with that," Jake said sarcastically.

"You're a ray of sunshine, kid. So what are you going to do about Lindsay?"

Jake sighed heavily. "I don't know. She's been really nice to me, so I don't want to be mean to her, but I can't see how this could ever work out and I don't want to lead her on. She's really special," he added regretfully.

"No way to just be friends?"

"Just friends? You mean like you and Carter have been 'just friends' all these years?"

"Yeah, I think that's a pretty good analogy."

Jake snickered, "Yeah, like I really want to do that again."

"It's not like it's a life-time commitment. You graduate at the end of this year, right? What are the odds you'll ever see her again after that? Do you really want to spend the rest of the time you have left at school having her be mad at you for being a jerk to her?"

"I don't know," Jake said. "I'll have to think about it some more."

"And that's why we have fishing silence," Jack said evenly. "But before it's invoked again, have you decided what you're going to do about Special Forces' offer for you to join as soon as you graduate?"

"I'm still thinking about that, too," Jake said before turning the tables on him. "Speaking of Carter, what are you going to do about her?"

"What do you mean?"

"Hey, you can't snow me, remember. I know you almost as well as you know yourself."

O'Neill looked at Jake intently for a moment, then gave a careless shrug. "There's nothing to do. She's engaged -- to a cop named Pete Shanahan – who seems to be a good match for her."

"That sucks."

"He's a good guy. He makes her happy. They're coming over later with Teal'c and Daniel so you'll get a chance to meet him. You'll see."

"You're a better guy and you'd make her happier," Jake responded stubbornly.

"I'm not so sure about that, but it doesn't matter. I'm still her superior officer and there's no getting around that."

"Military rules suck."

"You're not military. If you think I'm so perfect for her why don't you ask her out? You are basically me after all."

Jake gave him another glare, "Now there's an idea that **really** sucks."

Are you sure you aren't really 16. You use the word 'suck' an awful lot."

"Sorry. Habit from trying to blend in."

"Anyway, I'm doing just fine. I've got dinner plans with Linda next week. And if I ever get lonely there's always Kynthia on Argos or Laira on Edora who both invited me to spend my golden years with them. I've got lots of options."

"Yeah, they're both mighty fine ladies as I recall," Jake replied with a mischievous smile.

"Hey, watch yourself, kid."

"My body may be 16, but I've still got most of your memories, and those are some mighty fine memories."

"True, but having the rest of my memories must suck big time," O'Neill said earning a half-hearted grin from the boy.

"It's got its good moments and its bad moments," Jake responded nonchalantly. "But I expect some of it'll come in handy," he added with an impish grin and a twinkle in his eye. "Anyway," he said, returning to their earlier topic, "just make sure you don't get yourself killed before you exercise one of those options. It's kinda nice to know there's somebody out there I can call when there's a problem. It's hard sometimes to know all the people you know, but to not be able to contact any of them because I can't explain who I am."

"That's pretty rough, kid," O'Neill said sympathetically. "I guess I never really thought about how tough that would be for you. For what it's worth, I guess it's not as weird as I thought it would be spending time with you. Don't get me wrong, it's still in the ballpark of normal high school weird, but it doesn't reach the level of Buffy weird. And there are advantages now that I think about it. After all, I know you like the important things -- like fishing and the Simpsons."

"So it's okay if I call again if any more weird people show up at school."

"As long as it's not at 3:30 in the morning. And it doesn't just have to be about that, it can be about other stuff too."

"That's cool. Thanks, man."

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes before Jake said, "Can I ask you one more thing?"

"Only if I don't have to answer if I don't like the question."

Jake rolled his eyes, "Gee, how did I know that's what you were going to say."

O'Neill smiled, "What is it?"

"It's about the Special Forces thing. I'm sorta thinking about doing something else, but I'm not sure it's the right thing for me." He sat silently for a few minutes gathering his thoughts before continuing. "Have you ever wished you understood more than half of what Carter and Daniel talk about?"

"It's more like a third now that they're finding all that alien crap," O'Neill said with a shrug, "and yeah, sometimes I do."

Jake looked at him intently. "Don't put yourself down like that, Jack. You're forgetting who you're talking to. We're not stupid."

O'Neill's eyebrow went up at the vehemence of the teen's outburst, but, realizing he'd hit a sore spot, he nodded and responded contritely, "You're right. I'm sorry. We're not stupid, I just do a good imitation of it sometimes, especially around those two."

"Do you ever think about what you'd do differently if you had the chance? I've been thinking a lot about that time Dr. Carter came through the quantum mirror. Her life was so much different than our Carter's because she did just one thing differently -- she didn't join the military."

O'Neill thought about it for a few minutes. "I am who I am," he finally responded, "and I'm a little too old to change my ways now. I don't waste my time thinking about what could have been if I'd done this or that differently. Maybe in some people's eyes, and even my own sometimes, my life is a bit on the sucky side, but what I do is important, and it makes a difference. And I get to spend my days with some pretty interesting people, some of whom I even respect despite the fact that I don't understand what they're talking about half the time."

Jake gave a weak smile at that, but O'Neill continued. "You, on the other hand, are in a very interesting position. You know a lot of what I know and remember most of what I remember, so it's crazy for you to have to go back through training and endure all the other crap I've already lived through just because you have the body of a 16 year old. You've already been there, done that with the military thing. So it would be totally natural for you to want to explore other options.

"And you have to remember that once you decide to go down the military road, it will be very hard for you to turn back. We've done 30 years in the military already and once you go back in, it'll probably be another straight 30 or more for you, especially if we aren't able to eliminate the goa'uld threat. Think of this time when you have options as a holiday, like that time Ma'chello took over Daniel's body. Use it to do the things you want to do, to explore the things you want to learn more about and to just have some fun before you have to get back to the grind."

O'Neill's voice went quiet but firm. "Jake, you may have been created from my DNA and given my memories, but you're your own person now. I don't expect you to follow in my footsteps and lead your life exactly like I led mine. In fact, I hope you'll try out some new things and not just do what I did because that's what I did." O'Neill stopped, looking confused. "Did that make any sense?"

"Yeah, it actually did," Jake said with a laugh, and seemed to relax a bit. "I think I want to go to college," he finally blurted out. "And I don't mean the Air Force Academy, I mean a regular college."

O'Neill's eyebrow rose slightly at that, since his own feelings about attending any type of higher educational institution were ambivalent at best. "Then that's what you should do," he responded. "And if the government balks at paying the bills or tries to pressure you because they were counting on you going with the program and going straight into the service, let me know. I've got a little nest egg put away that can help with the cost."

"You'd really do that for me?" Jake asked, clearly surprised.

O'Neill shrugged again. "Daniel was trying to make a point by telling us this stuff about twins in the briefing last week, and I figure that in a twisted sort of way you're like my twin brother, only younger," he stopped, looking confused again. "Anyway, it made more sense when he explained it. But the upshot is family helps family. Just make sure you remember that in case I need a favor some day."

"Okay," Jake said quietly, looking away so his older self wouldn't see him blinking away the wetness that had suddenly sprung up at the corners of his eyes. "It would be cool to know I have somebody out there to talk to when things get too weird."

O'Neill deliberately kept his eyes straight ahead and his face completely composed as he added. "Well, there is a downside, you know."

"Like what?" the boy asked suspiciously. "It's not like I'm ever going to forget your birthday or anything like that."

"That's true," O'Neill said, still deadpan, but mentally kicking himself that now he was going to have to remember to do something for the kid on their birthday. Or would the kid's birthday be the day he'd actually been grown and put in O'Neill's place? Or would it be the birthday they'd made up for him? Those questions started his head aching, so he decided to put them aside for the time being and return to the subject at hand.

"Since we don't have a lot of biological family left, I've sort of expanded the definition a little. Daniel's an orphan, and with his grandfather Nick still communing with the giant aliens, he needs someone to keep him out of trouble. Jacob is off with the To'kra and Carter can't really confide that much in her brother, so she needs people she can talk to about all the weird alien shit. And with Ry'ac married and off on his own now, Teal'c doesn't really have anybody either. So we all sort of take care of each other. So, that means you'll be stuck with them too."

"Yeah, that's pretty tough," Jake said, trying to hide how overwhelmed he felt at having gone in seconds from being totally alone in an alien-feeling world to having some of the people he cared about most back in his life.

"Yeah, I know. It's pretty freaky," O'Neill said maintaining his facade of seriousness as Jake stifled a laugh.

"So, if I'm not available for any reason," O'Neill continued, "or if you need something you don't think I can help with, you can call any of them -- any time."

"Okay," Jake said, "I think I can handle that. I'll just try to forget that Carter and Daniel are scientists."

"That's how I handle it," O'Neill said somberly. "And there's one more thing."

Jake rolled his eyes impatiently, "What?"

"Once you get to college and use that brain of yours to figure out what it is Daniel and Carter are talking about the other half of the time, I want you to start sending me stuff I can drop on them at briefings so I can keep them on their toes. I love seeing that 'I didn't know he knew that' look on their faces."

Jake laughed. "If you promise to send me the footage from the security cams of the expressions on their faces when you say it, I guess I'm in."

"Cool. "Now I think it's time to return to fishing silence mode," O'Neill said.

They both leaned their heads back and closed their eyes as they stretched their legs out in front of them. Two fishing lines plopped simultaneously into the still water as their owners lazed on the shore, enjoying the warmth of the sunswept day and fervently hoping there wouldn't be any nibbles on the lines that would shatter the tranquility and require them to move.

Suddenly Jake's head popped up again. "Wait a minute. What Linda do you have dinner plans with next week? And the answer better not be Linda Schiler, my principal! I was wondering what the two of you had your heads together about for so long on Wednesday night after the recruiting visit. I'm serious, Jack. You are **not **dating my principal! At least, not as long as I'm still going to that school!"

O'Neill's only response was a self-satisfied smirk.

**THE END**


End file.
